


School of Love

by funfan



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Friendship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10102514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funfan/pseuds/funfan
Summary: Roman Bürki, a young Physics teacher thinks he has figured out life. But a few unexpected developments make him reevaluate his position and rethink his priorities.





	1. Monday Morning

Erik was everywhere on him. He sucked on his nipples and his teeth grazed against sensitive skin. Roman’s eyes rolled up, almost turning inward at the sweet onslaught initiated by the brunette. Full lips drew a wet trace down his torso and Roman moaned out at every loss of contact whenever Erik pulled back to take a labored breath. The sheets soaked in their sweat and the air was full of the scent of heated bodies wriggling against each other.

Erik tugged at the soft dark line of hair leading from Roman’s navel to his groin. Roman’s hips moved on their own to ease the pain, pressing his erection against Erik’s bony chin. Gosh, was he ever going to free his manhood from its prison?

The answer to his question came a second later when Erik slid his long fingers under his waistbands. Roman had examined those fingers and was dying to find out if the myth about the length of a man’s fingers was true or not.

His cock sprang free and a drop of precum leaked out the slit. Erik’s eyes shone as he immersed himself in the feeling of dominance. He had Roman in his most vulnerable. He would do whatever Erik asked him if only he’d finally close his lips around the pulsing head and bring an end to his months-long yearning. Or had it already been years?

Erik pushed his tongue through his lips. He moistened them, and then finally moved for Roman’s dick.

Roman couldn’t help it; his legs shuddered even before Erik could’ve touched him _there_. He heaved a needy moan and he glanced down. Erik looked back at him from behind his eyelashes, making sure one more time that Roman wanted this. He wanted to shout at the other one for taking this long, but he craved for that touch too much to manage more than another lustful moan.

It turned into high-pitched wheezing which then turned into the beeping of his alarm clock.

He didn’t move for a second, waiting for dream to take him back to that paradise. He had unfinished business there and the proof of it pushed against his thigh as he rolled around to turn his alarm off.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, giving up his hopes. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t possible make it through the day sane if he didn’t take care of his dire need right away.

He hauled himself off the bed that felt much emptier after such a vivid dream. The bathroom was only a few steps away, but every one of them shot a jolt of pain into his groin, no matter how wide apart he kept his legs.

His cock cried out in relief when he stepped out of his briefs. Other parts of his body had to be in an urgent need of blood. He stepped into the small shower cubicle and sprayed himself with a stream of ice-cold water. Not even that could solve his problem, so he wrapped his fingers around his dick and jerked off.

He needed a minute. He should have felt embarrassed about his performance, but he had other things to worry about. Water still hadn’t washed away his cum when shame surged his mind. Had he really done this? Had he just jerked off thinking about his best friend and his colleague? This definitely wasn’t normal.

He put the doubts in the back of his mind and finished his shower, fleeing the crime scene. A quick breakfast followed, then he brushed his teeth and spent ten minutes on setting his hair right. Half an hour after he woke up, he was standing in his hall in a bright white shirt and simple blue jeans. After a look in the mirror standing by the front door, he put a stray lock of hair in its place and then left his flat.

He knew he would have an awkward meeting in a minute or two, but he hadn’t expected to have one even sooner. He started to jog down the stairs, but he had to stop a floor lower.

“Good morning, Mr. Bürki.”

The shrill voice hurt his ears. Why, oh why did he have to suffer more than necessary? He put on his friendliest smile that was in fact halfway between creepy and.

“Good morning, Mrs. Schneider.”

“We have a lift in this house, you know,” the old harpy quacked, with her hands on her sagged hips.

“It’s easier to use the stairs,” Roman shrugged, not expecting the trap he had fallen for.

“Not in the middle of the night when I’m trying to sleep! I think you should stop your partying. A man of your age settles down and is looking for a wife. Don’t you think you’d stand a bigger chance if the ladies saw a gentle and friendly man? Not to mention your profession… is this the example you want to set for the children?”

“Good day to you, too, Mrs. Schneider,” Roman decided that he had had enough of this talk.

He circled her, trying hard to shrug off her cutting glance and continued on his way down, taking two steps at a time, making a bigger racket than necessary. He had come home ten o’clock the evening before, hardly an ungodly hour. Mrs. Schneider was wrong. He cared about the example he showed his students but it didn’t mean he had to give up his own character. He would have gone insane without his nights out, even if one by one they ended in failure.

He stopped grizzling only when he stepped outside and saw a dark Mercedes pull down in front of the house. Early spring was all around the air. The trees burgeoned and the longer days brought shy smiles on the pedestrians’ faces. But for Roman, only the smile of the car’s driver mattered.

“Good morning, colleague,” Erik greeted him with the warmest smile. Roman could have sworn he reserved it only for him. “How are we doing this morning? Not tired at all?”

They had started commuting to work together two weeks ago when Roman’s old tin can had gone on strike. The car had been repaired for a smaller fortune in a few days, but Roman found it hard to tell Erik about it.

“Someone has had a big mouth again,” Roman grumbled, climbing into the car. He slammed the passenger side door and buckled up.

“Come on, you wouldn’t go to Yan’s bar if you didn’t enjoy his friendly chatter.”

“Oh, I have no problem at all with his chatter as long as he is talking _to_ me and not _about_ me.”

“So, how did your evening end?” Erik teased him, drawling out every single word.

“You know all too well how it ended! Just like all the other times.”

“Don’t be sad about it. One day, someone will realize how special you are and you won’t have to worry about being on your own anymore.”

Ouch. He had meant to reassure him, but it didn’t work. Not when Roman wished Erik would notice him.

“One thing I don’t understand,” Roman said. “How come we never talk about your love?”

 “It would bore anyone to death. You should be thankful that I’m not forcing it on you,” Erik winked.

He brushed off the topic whenever it cropped up and Roman suspected there was a good reason for it. Neither could he ignore the nostalgic twinkle in Erik’s eyes as he turned to the road again, but he might have not seen the asphalt at all.

They spent the rest of the drive in silence, both of them buried in their own thoughts. By the time they arrived, students were already strolling inside the modern building. Roman thanked for the lift and got out of the car before Erik pulled the key out of ignition.

“Hey, don’t you want to see the new guy?” Erik called after him.

Roman halted. He had forgotten about it. In all honesty, he couldn’t care less about who their new colleague was, but he couldn’t miss his introduction. He braced himself for another pointless meeting and waited for Erik to catch up with him.

The teachers’ room was at the end of a long corridor on the first floor. The dull gray of the walls made Roman remember why he avoided this part of the school whenever he could. He was someone up for life, buzzing and excitement; the scene waiting him in the sunlit room on the other side of the heavy oak door was the exact opposite of it.

Or so he thought. He pushed the door open and bumped straight into someone. The next moment, hot coffee streamed down him.

“Are you completely mad!?” he snapped first, and only then looked up at the perpetrator.

He was a loon. His dark hair pointed in every possible direction, topping a haggard and angular face. Greenish eyes fluttered in confusion. Roman had never seen the guy who could’ve passed for an older student.

“I’m so sorry,” the man – his voice left no doubts about his age – rushed for a handful of napkins and rubbed it against Roman’s shirt.

“Stop it!” Roman roared and pushed the hands away. Spots of dry paint were all over them. “Can’t you be more careful? Why the hell are you running around with coffee like that?”

“I– I–”

“Erik Durm, nice to meet you.” Erik pushed past Roman and reached his hand to the stranger.

“Julian Weigl, I’m the new Arts teacher.”

“Splendid,” Erik smiled. Roman realized that he didn’t have the privilege of a special Erik Durm smile after all. Thinking about it, Erik’s lips even curled up more as he looked at Julian. “I’m the PE teacher, the lamest job in the world.”

He got a soft laugh in return. Roman hated it. Why did these two get along right from the start? Julian had ruined his best shirt for heaven’s sake! Didn’t Erik feel a sense of comradeship?

“This snappy guy here is Roman,” Erik introduced him for him. “His only excuse for his behavior is that he teaches Physics.”

“Once again, I’m sorry about your shirt,” Julian reached out his hand, and he took it only because everyone in the room was looking at them.

The teachers’ room held desks for every teacher, creating the perfect environment to look busy without doing anything. Piles of paper, books and notes lay on most of the desks, living into that opportunity. But the teachers now sat on the huge couches pushed into the farthest corner.

Whoever had had the idea to build a club house inside the office did a half job. The ‘chill zone’, as Roman and Erik called it, was too generic to be taken seriously. Or maybe it was meant to be taken seriously, but then it went against its purpose. The biggest mistake they made with the couches was putting them next to the headmaster’s office, preventing any candid talks.

The door leading to the headmaster’s office now opened and Mrs. Möller stepped into the room. It was as if she knew that everyone was inside by some sort of sorcery. Although she could have passed for a role of a witch in a play, Roman suspected that the reason for her perfectly timed entrance was down to her curious nature and the empty glass she always kept an arm’s reach away.

“Perfect, now that everyone’s here,” she gifted Roman an accusing glance, “we can start our meeting.” She waited until Julian, Erik and Roman sat down. “As we all know, Monika left on a maternity leave. Of course, we wish her and her baby all the health in the world,” she added after realizing how annoyed she sounded about a teacher daring to leave in the middle of the school year, something that ranked irresponsible in her eyes.

Mrs. Möller squeezed out sympathy from herself only after she read about its importance in a book. Worse than that, she decided to instill her fresh insight on her every employee, and so a round of reassuring applause swept through the room to a colleague who wasn’t even there. Roman joined in with resentment. They liked to believe they were a close knit bunch, but the understanding lasted only if you fell into line.

“Luckily, I managed to find the perfect replacement for the rest of the schoolyear and maybe even for the upcoming years. Mr. Weigl is a fresh graduate and will teach Arts and French until summer. I don’t have to remind you about our policies, so I expect support to him in the next weeks. Getting used to a new work environment can be straining, so why would we make it even harder? If the individual wins, the collective prospers, too.”

Roman had to laugh and roll his eyes at the same time and only his bad experiences with disagreeing with Mrs. Möller’s empty mottos stopped him from doing so.

“On another note, the results of the state-wide evaluation of schools are out. I am disappointed to announce that our school fell behind in the rankings.” Overdramatic whispers came from everywhere. “Because of that, I decided that closer control of your work is needed to ensure that our students get the education they come for. This week, I will visit your classes and point out the areas you need to get better at.

“I don’t have to tell you, this isn’t something I’ll enjoy,” her predator-like smile contradicted her, “but I’m afraid nothing else can stop our deteriorating performance. We must find the root of our problems and get rid of the weed in our collective.”

With that, she spun around and was gone the next second, leaving shell-shocked teachers behind. They exchanged worried glances and Roman could almost hear the guessing going on in their minds. He had to gulp, too.

“Come on, I have a few spare training shirts, I’ll give you one,” Erik stopped by him, jarring him back to reality. Roman blinked at him dumbfounded, but then he followed him outside.

“What do you think she meant?” Roman uttered the most urging question.

He had no idea how literally Mrs. Möller meant her threats, but if she wanted to get rid of the weed, Roman could find himself without a job. Physics wasn’t a subject students excelled in.

“I’ve no idea,” Erik shrugged. “You’ll be fine.”

Roman looked at Erik, ready to tell him off for being so lighthearted, but as he caught a glimpse of his eyes, he couldn’t argue with him anymore. He had overreacted. The situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed, and Erik definitely wasn’t dumping him for Julian (although he had no idea why he even thought about that). The old connection and friendship was still there, and only they could disrupt it.

In a few hours, Roman would find out that it was enough.


	2. Colleagues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for giving my story a try, I hope many of you will enjoy reading more of it. If you'd like to, feel free to share your thoughts with me. :-)

“Here, try this one,” Erik threw him a crumpled old T-shirt.

Roman inspected it with a raised eyebrow. He wasn’t going to wear _this_ , that much was clear right away. Even a coffee-stained shirt was better. And he definitely wasn’t going to put it on when Erik was staring at him, waiting for him to comply with his half-order.

“Gosh, how old are you?” Erik sighed and turned around.

Roman’s face reddened and he took the relative privacy to lose his shirt. He wasn’t ashamed of his body, quite the contrary, but he couldn’t just get shirtless in front of Erik. That would lead to a bunch of unwanted thoughts which in turn could reawaken his feelings from the morning. He forced himself into the tee that was at least two sizes too small. Every draw of breath was a struggle and the fabric sighed out in pain whenever Roman’s lungs filled with air.

“Alright, I see this isn’t the right one.” When did Erik turn back? “I think I have a bigger one,” he thought out loud, buried in his locker.

Roman urged him on in his mind. He couldn’t take much longer in this prison of clothing. As things stood, he would soon forget about his pride and free himself from the shirt if it meant stopping himself from suffocating. Erik understood his despair and threw two shirts to him. This time, he kept looking at the wall while Roman switched shirts again.

“I don’t think they will do the trick,” Roman sighed. The third tee was his size, but the light blue color just wouldn’t go with his jeans.

“What do you mean? This fits you perfectly,” Erik snapped.

“Yeah, but–” Roman drawled. Could he tell Erik about his concerns tactfully? “I don’t really like its look.”

“What?!”

A number of things happened at once. Erik swelled with exasperation and let out a huge breath with more force than necessary. He also grabbed the two previous shirts and threw them carelessly into his locker. Before Roman could react to his outburst in any way, Erik was standing right next to him and was about to pull down his tee.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful,” Roman explained himself, pulling down at the hem of the shirt against Erik’s forceful jerks.

“You did.”

Erik finally gave up his efforts and flung his arms around. He sent a last killing glance at Roman and then trotted to the furthest corner of the equipment room. Roman took a faltering step towards him, but then changed his mind when Erik’s shoulder twitched with anger.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed and then sneaked out of the room.

Erik was definitely overreacting. He might not have been the nicest person, but that was no reason to shout at him. He cared about his looks; that was his only fault. Was it so hard for Erik to understand? The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he got. He wasn’t at blame here, he was the victim.

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he wouldn’t shed them. He stared at the floor as he walked through the gymnasium and didn’t look up even when Erik called after him. He wasn’t going to make it easy for him. If Erik felt bad about his reaction, he would have to come after Roman and apologize.

He was still busy with his offense when he arrived at his laboratory. His first students for the day were already lined up on the corridor and they greeted him in various sorts. Roman only grumbled in return, earning a few bewildered glances. He unlocked the door and suddenly, a throng was pushing him in.

“Can’t you wait a minute?!” he yelled at them.

He stood as baffled as the students. What was going on with him? He had never shouted at them, why now? Surely, he couldn’t be taking out his anger on them. He had to push Erik into the back of his mind and focus on teaching.

It was easier said than done. No matter how hard he thought back, he couldn’t remember what the last thing he had explained his class was. He considered himself to be a meticulous teacher, but apparently it didn’t hold up all the time.

“Where did we finish the last time?” he played it cool. He didn’t succeed. The students sensed that something was off and that realization sat out on their faces. Roman hated himself for it. On one hand, he felt glad that they at least cared about him and noticed his sudden change, but on the other, they shouldn’t have to deal with it.

“Circular motion, Mr. Bürki.”

The answer came from the first row. Roman nodded at the gunner and thought back to the preparation he had done for this class. The first few sentences were hard, but after that, he got into the rhythm of his lecture and five minutes later everything was normal again, at least on the surface.

Deep inside him, his doubts grew. Just moments ago he had no idea what he was supposed to teach. Was he going to be like this during Mrs. Möller’s inspection, too? Was he such a shit teacher? He had rocked himself into the conviction that his students loved him and cared for his subject, but the truth had to be completely different.

Just to check his newly formed suspicion, he looked back at them over his shoulder. Half of the class had a dull look on them, and almost everyone else was busy doing other things. The clues were all around him, how come he hadn’t noticed them?

“So what does this prove?” he asked as another test of his hypothesis.

The long silence wouldn’t end. It stretched what felt like eternity until Roman finally showed mercy and continued with his lecture. He had to do something about this mess. The only problem was that he had no idea, how.

On any other day, he would have turned to Erik for advice. He rarely turned out to be of help, but his charisma and grounded thinking were enough to calm Roman down. But that procedure was out of question now. He was still angry at Erik, although in the back of his mind he knew that their row was ridiculous and too trivial to be taken seriously.

He somehow got through the first ninety minutes of teaching and then welcomed his break until noon. It was the best time to catch up with bureaucracy. He was expected to do it in the teachers’ room, but he couldn’t stand the constant distractions there. He’d rather sit alone in his laboratory and knock off the work sooner than socialize with his colleagues. They were nice people and Roman had nothing against them, but he always had the suspicion that he couldn’t be sure how sincere they really were.

And then, there was also Erik. He didn’t want to meet him. Although he had classes the entire day, Roman didn’t want to risk a coincidental meeting when Erik came to the teachers’ room for a paper or a coffee. He was mad at him and wanted him to come and apologize, even if he couldn’t name a single reason why he thought an apology was necessary.

As the clock hands crept closer to twelve, he couldn’t ignore the grumbling of his stomach anymore. Whether he liked it or not, he would see Erik at lunch. Worse than that, he’d have to sit next to him, like they always did ever since Erik had started working here two years ago.

When the ring announcing the start of the lunch break sounded, Roman put away his papers and started off towards the canteen. His laboratory was in the same wing. A winding line of students was already waiting for their lunches. Roman usually didn’t cut the line, but today he wanted to be done with lunch as quickly as possible. But as he entered the canteen, he came to a halt.

He wasn’t overcome by the clamor of conversation going on around the long tables or the melody played on the public piano next to the entrance. He only saw Erik sitting at the teachers’ table with Julian on his right. Where _he_ always sat.

Just a minute ago, he would have given his everything to avoid sitting next to Erik, but now, when he lost the chance to do it, an unexplainable anger surged through him. What exactly was Julian thinking? He wouldn’t take his place like that! He couldn’t stand between Erik and him!

“Is something wrong?”

Roman felt a hand on his back. He turned around and saw the English teacher Mats smile at him.

“No, I’m just not a fan of pork,” Roman blurted the first lame excuse he could come up with.

“I’m sure they have something special for us, teachers,” Mats chuckled.

There was no turning back. Roman was seen in the canteen by a fellow teacher and if he had left now, it would be marked as the sign of rebellion. He followed Mats and tried hard to ignore the constant whispering going behind him as he passed table after table. The students obviously found something amusing on him and it only added to his frustration.

He sat down at the table with Mats, on the other end then he usually sat. He sent a cutting glance at Erik, something he was oblivious of, too immersed in his chat with Julian. He seemed to enjoy himself, but Roman couldn’t get rid of the feeling that there was something strange about how Erik and Julian got along so well. He remembered Erik’s first day and how he had been the first one to address the new colleague. Erik was utterly grateful for it and for weeks, Roman was the only one he talked to. He wasn’t a social type and that’s exactly what bothered Roman so much.

Suddenly, Erik turned to him and to cover his ogling, Roman pretended to be interested in the conversation going on around him.

“If you ask me, I think Mrs. Möller’s move can be a boon in disguise.”

“I don’t know, Brigitte, I think she is being too harsh,” Mats answered their Chemistry teacher.

“We cannot be harsh enough when our children’s future is at risk,” Brigitte was the headmaster’s constant ally in the collective. “You don’t understand it, you have no idea what leading a school entails.”

Roman wanted to point out that neither did Brigitte, but he thought it wiser to remain silent. He already had a few bad points at the oldest teacher at school, he didn’t want to cause any trouble. The quarrel went on, but he paid no attention to it. He focused on Erik and Julian again and tried to learn lip reading in a minute. Was Erik talking about cows running on a highway to which Julian said that asparaguses shouldn’t be kept in the dark for long? It was hopeless, and he had to draw conclusions from the constant smiles the two shared. He didn’t like them at all.

“Do we know when she is visiting each class?” Mats asked, and Roman focused on them again. His ears could always pick up the relevant information.

“She came to my class right away and was very pleased with what she saw. Tell me whatever you can, the old principles will always work.” She grinned and continued only when she saw Mats’s annoyance at her not answering his question. “She’s done for today. Languages and Humanities come tomorrow and on Wednesday, which leaves the menial classes to Thursday.”

Menial as in PE and Physics? Roman couldn’t believe his ears, but the meaningful glance Brigitte sent him couldn’t be a coincidence.

He ran over his schedule in his mind. He had another class with freshmen. The worst class in the entire school, no big deal. His face strained in a sour expression and Brigitte only added to his misery.

“Oh, by the way, Roman, she expects you in her office at–” she checked her clock “–well, five minutes ago. Sorry, I completely forgot about it…”

Roman recognized the well-executed jab with a constrained smile, then he stood up to return his tray. He felt Erik’s gaze on him the entire time, and when he spun around to hurry out from the canteen, he bumped into him.

“Roman, could we–” Erik tried shyly.

“I’m sorry, but I’m in a hurry,” Roman cut him short and hastened out of the canteen.

He was late. The first deadly sin on Mrs. Möller’s list.


	3. Strikeout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the hits and reads, I hope you enjoy this story. I might update more frequently now, I hope to find more time for writing. :-)

He maneuvered down the corridors among idle students. Wherever he went, they started whispering in his wake and it was getting on his nerves. He checked himself once more, but he couldn’t find anything so funny or worthy of attention.

Luckily, the hallway leading to the teacher’s room was empty. He knocked on the headmaster’s door, and he used the time she took to invite him in to calm his breathing down.

Mrs. Möller sat behind her desk like a queen in her throne room. Her office did resemble a hall screaming authority. Every certificate the school had ever gotten was on the walls, as a proof to her wonderful leadership.

“Ach, Mr. Bürki, it was good of you to turn up. Please, sit down.”

Roman opened his mouth to explain the reason for his being late but decided against it. He had been framed guilty, simple as that. Whatever he would say, he would only make his situation worse.

“Do you know why I wanted to see you?”

She expected him to guess and guess correctly, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He looked at her for clues, but her face was as unreadable as always when she was dealing with one of her teachers. Another glance at the empty tabletop left Roman out of ideas, so he only shook his head. He expected a lightning bolt to strike him from Mrs. Möller’s eyes, but she only looked annoyed; not pleasant, but something he could deal with.

“I thought it was obvious,” she reached for one of the many drawers of her desk and brought forward a file. “I’ve gone through the most recent results on your tests. I find them disappointing and intriguing at the same time. While your top students’ results went straight up, the average is dropping ever faster. Do you know why that could be?”

“Because students focus on fewer subjects, I remember reading an article about it. You see, kids nowadays have to grow up faster, so they make their career choices a few years earlier.”

“That doesn’t interest me, Mr. Bürki,” she brushed his exposition off with a single wave of her skinny hand. “I see two possible explanations. First, your style of teaching favors the better students. I’m not very surprised, it is the easy way out for many novices. The problematic students cause you too much headache, so you let them pass but ignore them otherwise. In the meantime, you build a productive relationship with your talented students and–”

“That is not true!” Roman had no idea where had the strength to oppose his boss come from, but he wasn’t going to take such a verbal beating.

“The other explanation is even simpler: favoritism.”

Mrs. Möller’s words hung in the room with a weight crushing him. Roman heard the ticking of the huge clock on the wall and he felt his heart beat in every cell of his body. There were at least two heartbeats for every passing second.

“I understand that this is a serious accusation, but one I cannot avoid,” she explained as if she also was a victim.

Her words were empty. Roman didn’t always agree with his colleagues, and he might look uncooperative for it. Some might go as far as saying that he didn't care about the school. But he wouldn’t let his teaching, his love be questioned. He wasn’t doing as well as he wanted to, but he was going to change it.

“Before you speak up,” Mrs. Möller raised her hand as Roman was about to open his mouth, “you should reconsider your words. This is a delicate topic and we need to approach it with the greatest care. I propose a detailed investigation to clear everything up.”

They could forget about it right away and save themselves a ton of time and energy. But Mrs. Möller wanted to see it through and Roman had to play by the rules. For a moment, he even considered that she had come up with the inspection to get rid of him. She wasn’t a fond of him. Only his good reports compared to his fellow Physics teachers in the state kept him afloat. Now, when he was doing worse, she was happy to let him drown.

“What would your investigation entail?” he croaked out.

“I’m glad you cooperate, Mr. Bürki,” a wide grin spread across her face. “This is a hard moment for you, but we must make sure the students get the best treatment we can offer.”

“They do.”

“Well, I need to make sure. I’d like you to hand in all the tests you gave the kids this schoolyear. I will have a few colleagues check that no one gets special treatment. I can assure you that it will be a quick and discreet investigation. I hope we can put an end to this question as soon as possible and that you will come out of it with your standing intact.

“Once again, I only have our students’ interest at heart. I don’t believe there is anything to this theory, but as your headmaster, I cannot rule it out until evidence says otherwise. Do you understand my position?”

“Perfectly,” Roman ground out. If only she understood his. “Can I go now?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for your understanding.”

She turned to the huge display on her desk, looking busy, but she still eyed Roman as he got up and walked over to the door. It was only a matter of time until she would utter the other thing bothering her.

“And Mr. Bürki, weren’t we clear on our policy on tattoos?”

Roman stared at her clueless for a second, than looked at his bare arms. He always wore long sleeves at work and he never even thought about his tattoos being visible. At least they explained all the whispering going on among the students.

“I had to change shirts in the morning and I didn’t have a spare one.”

“Be more careful in the future,” she waved her hand.

His feeling of freedom lasted exactly one second after he closed the office door behind him. His colleagues were looking at him, hungry eyes demanding a lengthy retelling of his talk with Mrs. Möller. He was disgusted with them and wanted to slap the vultures ready to feed on his misfortune.

He stormed out, his anger with Erik long forgotten. He needed to hear some reassuring words. A dozen outcomes to Mrs. Möller’s investigation swirled in his mind, all ending with him losing his job.

The bell rang, announcing the start of the afternoon classes and ending his hopes for a talk. Roman let out a sharp breath to stop himself from swearing and went to his laboratory.

The freshmen were the worst class in the entire school, there was no doubt about it. Year after year, it got only worse, as if discipline was dying among schoolchildren. Roman thought of them exactly like an old teacher before retirement would. But how else could he react to the appreciative whistles as he passed through a group of girls? Who did they think they were?

He didn’t let himself live into the emotion too much. He knew he was powerless against them. They might have been vicious, but they knew where the limit of what they could and couldn’t do was. One moment, they were scratching the definition of harassment, but they would have the most innocent look if Roman dared speak up.

The complete disorder continued in the classroom as well, but this time, Roman didn’t want to stop it. He only wanted to be done for the day and go home – in Erik’s car. But halfway through the lecture things got too far and he had to do something about it. He walked among the desks, carrying on with his explanation, stopping at those whose faces had been buried in their phones seconds ago.

“I don’t remember talking about anything needing this much drawing, Miss Reiter,” he stopped in the last row.

Elsa Reiter closed her sketchbook, and buried it in her bag.

“I’m sorry,” she recited the simple sentence that got all students out of trouble.

Roman wasn’t satisfied with it. He wanted to set an example for the rest of the class. He put his hand on Elsa’s desk and leaned forward, looming over her.

“Why don’t you share the result of your endeavor, Miss Reiter?” he asked in a friendly tone.

She glanced at him for a moment, begging, but then shot her eyes down. Not caring about etiquette, Roman got the sketchbook and opened it.

He didn’t believe his eyes. Elsa’s face couldn’t turn red enough to mirror her shame and Roman could understand it. He stared at the artistic lines in utter disbelief, sensing that he shouldn’t have pushed the matter. He felt ashamed by looking at it, and he must have blushed, too.

From the paper, Erik looked back at him, or at least the way Elsa saw him. The drawing reflected his charisma, and her imagination filled in the parts she couldn’t know. And there were a lot of blanks to fill in, considering that her Erik wasn’t wearing any clothes.

“It would be better if you concentrated on Physics on my classes, Miss Reiter,” Roman croaked out in the end.

Her returned to his desk, gripping the sketchbook and took his own advice. Focusing on teaching was almost impossible after this. For the most of the class, he couldn’t hear the constant chatter of pupils over the blood pumping in his ears. Elsa’s eyes burnt a hole in his back, as he did everything to avoid looking at her. The minutes stretched into an eternity and he couldn’t believe it when the bell finally rang again.

His students did. They darted out before the bell quieted, their things packed long ago. Roman slumped on the chair and stared into the nothingness in front of him. In a few hours, he had found himself in a pit he wasn’t sure he could climb out of. Why did these things always happen to him?

“Am I intruding on your musings?” a tender voice brought him back to reality.

“Erik, I didn’t hear you coming!” he startled and blinked much more than normal. All the time, he could only think about one thing: not looking at the sketchbook and arouse Erik’s curiosity.

“I’m sorry, I can’t take you home today. Julian needs a helping hand with moving a few boxes from his old apartment, and I promised him I’d help.”

“Ah, Julian, I see…” Roman snorted. His sympathy for Erik had vanished the moment he had mentioned Julian. It seemed like his name alone brought the worst out of Roman. “Well, have fun with him!”

“Excuse me, did I miss something?” Erik fluttered his eyes.

“No, you should hurry up! I’m sure Julian’s already waiting for you.”

“I’m going to talk to you once your reason’s back,” Erik shook his head in disbelief and trotted out. Roman was too angry to hear him greet someone on the corridor.

“ _I’m going to talk to you once your reason’s back,_ ” he mimicked Erik, throwing his notes into his bag. _“Julian needs a helping hand._ Well, you could still notice your friend, you know!”

“Professor?” A shy voice startled him.

Roman sprang in his place and turned around still in the air. He almost fainted when he saw Elsa standing in the door, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Elsa! How long have you been standing here?” He asked, but didn’t want to hear the answer. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just wondering if I could get my sketchbook back,” she stepped forward.

Roman was too dumbfounded. He reached for it and his brain started functioning again right before he was about to hand it to her. He needed to report this. But what then? It would only cause a ton of unpleasantness to Erik. Roman also cared about Elsa. She didn’t do anything horrible, after all. She was a teenage girl who went too far with her fantasies. She needed a few warning words, not a serious reprimand.

“I don’t want such an incident to happen again. I respect that you like drawing, but don’t do it in school. And also, pick your inspiration with more care.”

“I will, Mr. Bürki,” she laughed and Roman didn’t like it. Neither did he like the playful twinkle in her eyes.


	4. Friends and Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my story. I have great fun writing it, and if you enjoy reading it, be sure te let me know in the comments. If you want to, that is. :-)

Roman had much to think about in the afternoon. His thoughts switched between his talks with Erik and Mrs. Möller, and the weird incident with Elsa. One was enough to rule out a relaxing evening, but together they kept Roman awake until midnight.

He woke up completely beaten up, even though he had fallen asleep the second he had hit the bed. His eyelids felt like lead and only a new troubling thought prevented him from going back to sleep. His joints cried out in pain as he rose with a sudden movement. He reached for his phone and before he could have had second thoughts, called Erik.

“Yef?” Erik answered with his mouth full.

“Enjoy your breakfast,” Roman said. “I just wanted to ask if you were still taking me to school today.”

Erik swallowed the food in two huge gulps. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, our fight yesterday…”

“Did we have a fight yesterday?”

“Didn’t we?”

“Did we?”

“Could you answer my question?” Roman snapped.

“Can you get there otherwise?”

“Well, I could–” Roman almost revealed that his car was ready to function. “I could think of something. There is public transport going that way… I guess.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he took the bus. Hearing his uncertainty, Erik burst out laughing.

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Fine, thank you,” Roman sighed with a smile.

His plan was coming along and it gave him the needed boost for the morning. He got ready in record time and managed to slip past Mrs. Schneider’s door before she could have pounced at him. This was going to be a much better day than yesterday.

Erik arrived later than usual, but Roman couldn’t care. The important thing was that he had come and their friendship was still intact, or at least he hoped so. He shouldn’t have been anxious about a little snapping, but he also knew that he could never be sure with them. It’s not like he wanted to ruin their friendship, but he couldn’t make any guarantees if Julian was going to be around.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” he opened the door and got in. Everything was familiar and it calmed him down. “I wanted to thank you for your help yesterday. I know I wasn’t grateful, and I’m sorry about that.”

He gave Erik’s T-shirt back, freshly washed, in the company of a box of bonbons.

“It’s fine,” Erik took them and tossed them onto the backseat with no ceremoniousness.

“Don’t you want to say something else?”

“What? Should I apologize, too? What for?”

“Well, you weren’t very kind to me, either.”

“I would have been if I hadn’t had to put up with you being a jerk.”

“I wouldn’t have been a jerk if Julian hadn’t ruined my shirt.”

“Hey!”

The sudden cry of resentment coming from the seat behind him startled Roman. He jumped in his place and turned around. Julian was looking back at him. His hair was a tad bit better than the day before, but it wasn’t a compliment. The same happiness was still on his face, but the circles under his eyes told Roman that he didn’t have a great night.

Roman felt good about that, but only for a moment. His always thinking mind put the pieces together. Erik was this snappy only when he didn’t get his needed sleep. His head bounced back and forth between Julian and Erik, looking for evidence.

No, they couldn’t have spent the night together. Why was he even thinking about it? It’s not like he had exclusive rights to enjoy Erik’s company.

Whatever the truth was, that was it for his pleasant morning. He turned back in his seat, crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared out the window. Why had he even put on his most expensive cologne when Erik had eyes only for Julian?

He calmed down only when they arrived at the school. They had barely stopped when Julian hurried off to his atelier, as he called it. Roman had no idea how could anyone think of the dark little hole in the furthest corner of the school as an art studio, but then, not many physicist would consider his classroom a laboratory.

“I’m sorry about this whole thing this morning. Could we forget about it?” He wanted to use his unexpected chance to speak with Erik undisturbed.

“Yes, why don’t we do that?” One day, Erik’s mocking was going to kill someone.

“Thank you, that will be perfect,” he showed Erik his most innocent smile. He got a cutting glance in response, but a playful smile also tugged at the corners of Erik’s lips. “Jokes aside, I’d like to ask you something.”

“What a surprise,” Erik scoffed.

“What is wrong, Erik?” Roman snapped, his wish forgotten.

“Nothing, I’m sorry,” he rubbed his temples. “Go on, please.”

Roman saw that he wasn’t telling him the truth. It troubled him, but the wisest thing now was to give Erik the time he needed to come talking to him. He could only hope that he still was in the position for Erik to spill his heart out to him.

“Okay, so yesterday I was thinking about how I could make the Physics classes better. You know, Mrs. Möller more or less threatened me, so I–”

“What do you mean she threatened you?”

Erik stopped so abruptly that Roman could halt only two steps later. He turned back and saw honest curiosity in Erik’s eyes. A huge stone fell off his heart. So Erik did care after all.

Roman had to do his best to hold back the sigh of relief that wanted to escape his lips. He smiled, letting Erik know that it wasn’t something horrible, and then retold the meeting.

“Not like she’s going to find anything,” Erik mumbled.

That’s why Roman liked talking to him so much. Dealing with Erik could be hard, but when it mattered the most, he stood up for his friends.

“Back to my teaching style. I remembered some videos they showed us back at college of an American professor who explained Physics through the craziest experiments. Our students need that.”

“I don’t know,” Erik drawled and Roman paled. He expected support. “I hear that American universities pay a lot, something we can’t offer the guy. And besides, what will you do if he comes to teach here?”

Roman looked at him baffled, inspecting Erik’s struggle to hold back his roaring laughter. When the penny finally dropped, Roman balled his fists and brought them to Erik’s biceps. He was panting for air in his guffaw by that time.

“Are you being dense on purpose? No, I don’t want that guy to teach Physics instead of me. I want to copy his style.”

“I’m sorry, but if you give me such chances to screw with you, I cannot help it. Where do I come in?”

“I need a place to test the idea. I have the first experiment ready, but I need a bigger room than my laboratory.”

“The gymnasium, I suspect.”

“Yes,” Roman nodded. He awaited Erik’s answer, and the lasting silence troubled him. “You don’t have a class tomorrow morning, right?”

The question was a formality. Roman memorized Erik’s schedule before his own.

“Why not? If you think it’ll help… Should I pick you up earlier in the morning, then?”

“No, I’ll bring everything with my car,” Roman blurted out and his heart missed a beat when he realized what he had said. He sent a wary glance at Erik who didn’t seem to notice anything. “If they finish repairing it today, that is.”

“Okay,” Erik shrugged. “Let me know if things change.”

His good mood carried him through the day. He didn’t mind the students, his colleagues’ inquiries or sitting on Erik’s left at lunch because Julian took his place again. He didn’t mind Julian driving home with them, either. He was still sitting in the front and could call himself Erik’s best friend. Julian wasn’t going to take it away from him, and after the inspection, he was going to make sure of it.

“Is there two of you, Roman?” Julian asked when they were pulling onto the sidewalk in front of Roman’s house.

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

“Marco’s here,” Erik pointed at the guy sitting on a nearby bench, two bags lying at his feet.

Roman looked there, horrified. His brother was staring into his cell phone, but sensing Roman’s gaze on him, he looked up and put it away with a shy smile.

“Excuse me,” Roman mumbled and climbed out of his car.

Anger blurred his vision and he was glad to see Erik drive away. No matter how much he loved him, Marco could bring the worst out of him and he didn’t want Erik to see it. Marco’s grin froze onto his face as Roman got closer.

“What are you doing here?”

“Good afternoon to you, too! I thought teachers were at home by three and not four. I’ve been waiting for you for an hour.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I visit my sweet brother?”

“You can, but most people call before a visit.”

“I wanted to surprise you?”

“Wow, I’m honored,” Roman groused.

He wanted to be angry with Marco, but couldn’t do it. A part of him was glad to see Marco. They didn’t see each other that much since his moving. His features softened in the end and he hugged Marco.

“Hey, could I park my car in your garage?”

“I’m parking there.”

“Yeah, but you still have that old wreck, right?”

“It’s not that easy to save for a new car if you’re not living off your parents,” Roman hit back. “I’ll help with the luggage,” he offered and hit a chatty voice. “So, what brings you here?”

Marco wanted to stop him, but Roman was quicker. He lifted one bag and almost tripped over. It was heavier than he had expected. Too heavy. He sent Marco an inquiring glance. The younger one shot his eyes down and that was enough clue for Roman to know that something wasn’t right. He dropped the bag and unzipped it with a single jerk. It held five pairs of shoes and a ton of Marco’s personal things.

“Living off my brother,” Marco answered and winced away from whatever reaction he would get. “Before you start yelling at me, could we move this to your apartment?”

“No, we cannot! What exactly do you think of yourself? You storm in and expect me to be ready to give you anything you ask? Why didn’t you call me for starters?”

“You would’ve said no.”

“Oh, so you decided to dispense with a talk?”

“Let me explain.”

“What are you going to tell me? There’s no explanation for what you did.”

“I kind of expected my brother at least listening to me,” Marco sulked.

“And I expected mine to call if he needed help.”

“I’m telling you that I need help right now,” Marco snapped, but only got a sustained glance from Roman. “Fine,” he gave in with a sigh, “I’ll drive off, then. If I leave now, I’ll get home around midnight. Dad will mock me, but what’s that to you, right?”

He hung his head low and picked up his bags. He trotted towards his car, each step looking more labored. Watching him hurt Roman. He waited with stopping him until Marco opened the boot and was about to flung the bigger bag in.

“Wait! What do you mean you need help?”

“Forget about it, I’ll find another way,” Marco shrugged.

“Marco, tell me,” he half-pleaded.

“Can we go into your flat now?” Marco looked around. Roman didn’t know what he was afraid of.

Roman hated himself for being played, but there was something to Marco’s unusual request he needed to find out more about. He nodded, fished his keys out of his pocket and started off towards the front door. Marco followed him a few seconds later, carrying both of his bags.

They didn’t speak on their way up to his flat. He didn’t offer Marco anything once they got in, either, only went into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.

“You were right,” Marco spoke up. “About my car and how I mistreat Ma and Dad. I want to change it. I need to grow up, take responsibility over my own life and live on my own.”

“By moving in with me?” Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Only until I find a job and can afford a place on my own.”

“Oh, please. I know all about your temporary solutions,” he pointed at Marco’s wristwatch. For at least four years, only a grey duct tape held the strap to the lug.

“This time, I mean it. I want to change. I’ve already checked a few job opportunities online. A month or two, and I’m out of here.”

“But why here? Why don’t you try your luck at home?”

“Where better to find a new job than in the big city?” Marco showed him a half-smile. Roman still couldn’t appreciate it.

“You’re just afraid that you’ll balk at the weight of responsibility and you don’t want to do that in front of Dad. You think I won’t be hard on you and will have your back when you’ll have to plod back home with your tail between your legs.”

“Yeah, we can say that,” Marco gave in after some consideration.

“Then say it,” Roman said. He was a supportive brother, but that didn’t mean that Roman could use him.

“That’s not the sole reason. You know what Ma’s like. I don’t feel like I need to do anything when she’s around. We’re her sweet children and she’ll give us everything. There’s a reason you moved into another country after all.”

“Excuse me, I was going to university!”

“Oh sure,” Marco snorted. “And why exactly did it need to be in Germany?”

Roman couldn’t answer anything to that. Marco was right, but he couldn’t believe that his brother was thinking the same. Roman had always been more conscious of what he wanted, while Marco let the flow take him wherever it wanted. It was easy for him. He adapted to any circumstances, something that to the over-organizing Roman seemed like a nightmare.

“The timing really isn’t right,” Roman drawled his final objection. “I’ve a ton of problems at my job, I can’t take care of you.”

“You don’t even need to,” Marco stepped forward, sensing his winning position. “I’ve told you I want to grow up, and if you’re busy with your work, that’s one more reason to have me here. I can look after the household until I find a job, and after that, we can share the chores. It leaves you more time on your career, and me a place to live. Please.”

“It’s not that simple, Marco. I’m only renting this place, and there are rules–”

“I’m sure they can be taken care of, if you try hard. And it’s only temporary, I swear. Don’t make me beg. If you don’t want to have me here, tell me and I’ll leave, but don’t come up with the stupidest excuses.”

He might not wanted to beg, but his eyes were doing it for him. Everything told Roman that it was a bad idea, but he wasn’t going to say no. The sooner he admitted it to himself, the easier it would be for him. His body tensed for a second, but then, he accepted his inevitable fate.

“You’ll sleep on the couch. You’ll take care of the household. And you _will_ look for a job.”


	5. The Experiment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back again with a new update. I'm sorry for the long wait, but I was busy with other things, hopefully I'll be able to update more regularly again from now on. Anyways, please, let me know if you liked the new chapter. :-)

The fresh coffee and still lukewarm buns waiting him on the table convinced Roman that maybe Marco was serious about his big transformation. His brother wore his best clothes, and he took extra care to look good in them. He was ready for a job interview and with his determination, Roman saw no reason why he couldn’t get any job he’d apply for.

“Do you need a lift to the school?” Marco asked. An alien must have taken his body overnight, there was no other explanation.

“No, thanks,” he said, sipping coffee. “I have my things packed in my car.”

“Your things? Just how much are you actually taking to school?”

“It’s for a long debate,” Roman sighed.

He had to remind himself that his plan was meant to work, something he didn’t completely believe. Everything suggested that it would be a success, but there was that chance in trying, that it would fail utterly and push him into an even bigger pit than the one he was already in.

He needed to take some rest. The first two days at work this week and Julian’s appearance made him ask a lot of question, questions he could keep in the back of his mind, but the longer he ignored them, the stronger they would become. He wanted to be done with Mrs. Möller’s inspection and explanation as soon as possible, find a way to motivate his students, and only then was he ready to deal with his personal life.

“Thanks for the breakfast,” he stood up, warning himself not to wash the dishes. It was Marco’s job now. “I’ll be back around four, maybe a bit later. I have an important class tomorrow, I need to prepare everything.”

“Okay,” Marco shrugged, suddenly fishing his phone out of his pocket and tapping it wildly.

“The spare keys are in the top drawer in the hall. If you need something, text me, I’ll answer as soon as I can. You can do some shopping, the fridge is going to be empty too soon with the two of us here.”

“Yes, boss,” Marco smirked, but didn’t look up from his cell.

“Take care,” Roman shook his head.

He stepped into his shoes and then left. He started off down the stairs instinctively, but when he heard Mrs. Schneider’s door open just the slightest, he called the elevator. He was proud of his lucky escape and took it as a good omen for the day.

He had no reason to be anxious. If his plan didn’t work out, he would still have tried. True, he’d be the subject of ridicule among his peers, but his biggest problem would be losing his job. He still had no idea how he was going to convince Mrs. Möller to pay for the extra expenses for his new form of teaching. The ideal way would be convincing through results, but honestly, he didn’t know how long they would take. He didn’t expect an overnight change, he didn’t believe in them. Although… Marco’s behavior had him thinking.

His car started on the first time, which was new. The fortune he had spent on it was worth it, but after a few turns, the old and well-known problems and lapses came back. There was no point in torturing the engine anymore. Every visit to the service was only postponing the inevitable. He couldn’t heal an open slash with a couple of band aids.

It was still enough for him to get to school. The parking lot was almost completely empty, but his colleagues arrived as he was packing out from the backseat. They all watched the interesting procedure with hungry eyes, but neither of them asked a question. They must have thought that Roman was a lunatic, either a genius or a fool, and they would wait until it became clear which one it was.

“Wow, you need all this?” Erik stepped over to him, Julian in tow.

They eyed the three huge boxes and iron tubes with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. They didn’t believe it would solve anything, Roman didn’t have to look twice to see it.

“I’ll help you with these,” Julian offered.

“Not that one!” Roman shouted and his cry echoed in the schoolyard. “I mean, there are some fragile things in there. Maybe you could take the parts of the frame.”

Julian just shrugged and picked up two iron tubes with each hand. Erik followed his example, upping his contribution with two further tubes, and their odd march started off towards the gymnasium. Roman didn’t prefer Julian being there with them, but nothing could be perfect, and he needed an extra pair of helping hands. His drive to the school took much longer than planned with the engine threatening to stop every time he braked.

“What exactly is this supposed to be?” Erik held two tubes, clueless.

“You’ll see in a minute,” Roman said, taking matters into his own hand.

He was at his best, telling Erik and Julian what to do, where to stand, what to hold and where to put it. In five minutes, the first details of his experiment became clear, and he noticed satisfied the growing curiosity in Erik’s eyes. The brunette didn’t care about the outcome of this attempt anymore. He was interested in seeing the experiment and what it had to do with Physics. Roman saw it as his first small victory in the day, and he could only hope that more would follow.

“Could you please fill those balloons with water, Erik?”

“Yeah, sure,” Erik agreed and took the six balloons with him. Roman realized what his departure meant only when it was already too late.

“You know, the next time you need to build something, count me in,” Julian patted the rudimentary stand that started to tremble immediately. “I know a thing or two about building things, my hands aren’t good only at drawing.”

There was something about Julian’s voice that made Roman think that this was supposed to be an ambiguous comment. He didn’t want to get it. He only focused on attaching a huge sling to the end of the stand. On the other end, a huge wooden plank was awaiting its fate.

“I’m starting to feel sorry that I have to teach in the morning,” Julian tried to start a conversation again. He remained silent until Roman nodded the slightest bit. “This here looks interesting. Could you tell me what it’s about?”

“I want to show them how objects move differently in different spaces. In air and in water, to be precise.”

Roman took a step away from his makeshift. He was proud of it. Sure, he could have done it better, but he didn’t have a lot of time with Marco making himself comfortable in his flat.

“I’m done,” Erik entered the gymnasium again, balancing the balloons in his hands. Julian hurried to help him and they put them down on the ground with extra care. “Thanks. Jule, you should hurry up, the first class starts in two minutes.”

“Already on my way,” Julian smiled and then turned to Roman. “Well, good luck!”

“Your students are waiting outside,” Erik announced. He didn’t have to. The moment Julian opened the door, half a dozen curious faces appeared in the opening. “The rumor is already out, so they have high expectations,” he continued, taking a seat in the window.

“Are you going to watch it?” Roman asked, taken aback.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not,” Roman croaked out.

Now he was starting to worry. He was sure the experiment would work, but he wasn’t going to keep it together as long as Erik was looking at him so tenderly, his look almost stroking him. The worst thing was that Roman couldn’t take his eyes off him. The more he wanted to turn his head, the harder it became.

He freed himself from Erik’s spell only when the bell rang. He let his students in. They formed a circle around the frame and were engaged in a friendly conversation with Erik by the time Roman joined them.

“Alright, everyone!” he clapped his hands. “I’m glad you found my notice and made it here. Today, I want to talk about physical spaces. We will observe them through a couple of experiments, and I hope you will enjoy it. Mr. Durm was kind enough to share his gymnasium with us, so why don’t we start right away?”

He walked around the frame, glad to have every eye fixed on him. Having Erik here wasn’t a good idea, because he was the subject of a lot of students’ appreciation. Not the way it was in Elsa’s case, but at their school, Erik was the cool teacher and everyone got along with him.

“Okay, do you have any ideas how we could examine movement through different materials?” Long silence was the only answer. Nothing could work perfectly on the first try. “We’ll observe friction and drag. We’ve already talked about friction.” Another question was on his lips, but he knew what the reaction to it would be. “It is the force slowing down movement when two objects slide against each other. Drag represents the same kind of resistance when an object moves through a fluid or gas. Now, what can we learn from a material’s drag?”

He forgot about his new policy of no questions, but there was no backing down. The answer was so obvious to him, he was convinced that someone would shout it out. It didn’t happen, and he was forced to answer it for himself.

“A material’s density of course. The denser a space is, the bigger drag it has. You can easily observe it when comparing vacuum to air. A space shuttles uses almost all of its fuel to evade the Earth’s atmosphere, once in space, they use it only to–”

“Aaaw,” Erik yawned much louder than it was necessary, much to the delight of the students.

Roman sent him a cutting glance, but Erik didn’t seem to mind. He was trying to get a message through. Roman turned to his students again. Their eyes had become dull again since they had entered the gymnasium.

“Okay, so let’s see it in practice!” he clapped his hands, and it immediately revived some of their spirits. “The experiment is very simple: using this sling, we’ll shoot an iron ball into this wooden plate. Now, the force should be enough to jam it into the plate, maybe it’ll even hit through it. Who wants to try?”

A dozen flung their hands into air, and Roman smiled, pleased.

“Arnold, you’re the strongest, aren’t you?” he asked. The class’s worst student at Physics wasn’t only grateful for being picked, but also for the unexpected distinction. “So, what you are going to do, is pulling this sling back as much as you can. It is very strong, so you’ll need your best. Aim it at the wooden plate and nothing else, alright? The others can line up along the frame in the meantime, but keep a safe distance from it.”

Their enthusiasm somehow faltered hearing about the dangers of the upcoming moments. They still stepped closer, though. Roman checked if Arnold was following his instructions, then joined his other students.

“Okay, I’ll count down. When we reach zero, let go of the sling. Three. Two. One. Zero.”

The sling swished through the air, launching the ball that hit the plate the next second. The wood shook for a few moments and then fell to the floor with a huge crash. The students walked closer to it and eyed the damage the ball had made. The plate almost broke in two. A huge cheer swept across the class and Roman couldn’t hide his satisfaction.

“Let’s repeat this experiment, but this time, we will hang water balloons between the sling and the plate. Now, what do you think will happen with the same movement in water?” he posed the question.

“The ball will surely slow down,” someone shouted.

“That’s right, but how much?” No one was so willing to answer this question. “What if I told you the ball wasn’t going to get to the wooden plate at all?”

Everyone disagreed with him and they shared it with him in various forms.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” he tried to bring order to his class. “We’ll try it and see, okay? Now hang those balloons on the hooks on the frame while I put the plate back.”

“Wait a second,” Erik stepped forward. He hopped down from the window and walked to Roman with the same unbelieving expression his students had. “Do you want to tell me that there’s no way the ball will get through the balloons?”

“Exactly,” Roman nodded with certainty.

“Why don’t you stand there instead of the plate, then?” Erik challenged him.

Roman didn’t know what to answer. He blurted out a few excuses about how certain criteria had to be valid, how he couldn’t risk the safety of anyone and that he couldn’t just change the methods of the experiment on the go. It was all in vain. Erik had piqued the students’ interest and they wanted to see if Roman was willing to risk himself, trusting Physics enough.

The balloons were already hanging in their place, touching each other just the slightest, so there was no way the ball could ricochet off. It was supposed to work. Roman made a round around the frame, checking every detail, but he didn’t find anything that could change the outcome of the experiment. He tried it in a smaller scale, and it worked. He made the calculations and they clearly showed that he would be safe on the other end. He even left some reserve, half of the balloons would be enough to stop the ball.

“Well, what do you say?”

“Yes, Mr. Bürki, just stand there!” the students urged him on.

“Fine,” Roman gave in against his better judgment. “But you will aim at the balloons, am I clear? You probably wouldn’t be successful even if you tried otherwise. You see the water will redirect the ball if it doesn’t hit at an angle of–”

“Yeah, sure, bla bla,” Erik rolled his eyes, making everyone laugh again. “Can we please jump to the part where you either prove your point or get killed?”

“Alright, alright,” Roman stopped at the end of the frame. He had another comment on his tongue, that he couldn’t die even if the ball hit him, something down to the strength of the human bones, but he decided to leave it that way.

“Wait, why don’t you pull the sling, Mr. Durm?” Arnold offered. “You are much stronger than me.”

Everyone approved of it, except for Roman. He made a few quick mental calculations. Considering Erik’s possible strength, four out of six balloons should be enough to stop the ball. Erik didn’t wait until someone else asked him. He walked over to the sling, put the ball in it and pulled it back with all his strength. Roman heard the rubber stretch to its limits.

His heart stopped beating as he was waiting for Erik to shoot at him. He needed all of his self-control not to close his eyes, but he still murmured a prayer. He caught Erik’s determined look, and his whole life flashed in his mind. Erik was concentrating, adjusting his aim.

Then, he let go.

The first two balloons exploded, the water splashing into the bowl in the bottom of the frame. The third balloon was more like cut open and the ball finally bounced off the fourth one. Erik didn’t put his whole strength into it in the end.

Everyone was silent, overcome by what they had seen, only Roman’s pathetic panting could be heard in the gymnasium. He couldn’t help it. He did feel in lethal danger just a few moments ago, after all.

“Wow, that was amazing,” someone cheered from the back rows. “Can I stand in your place, Mr. Bürki?”

“Definitely not,” Roman snapped. “I think we’ve already proved our point. Thank you, Erik, for your help, I think we will go to the laboratory now to look at the theory behind what we saw.”

He couldn’t ignore the disappointed sighs, but the students were still more enthusiastic about the upcoming hour of Physics lecture than usually. He told them to gather at the door and then walked over to Erik who still eyed the sling and the balloons unbelievingly.

“I’ll come and put away this frame in the break. I guess I should manage it before you have to start teaching.”

“Never mind,” Erik said. He didn’t sound like himself, and he still couldn’t take his eyes off the frame. “I don’t have much to do, I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay, thanks,” Roman nodded.

He walked over to his students who were discussing the experiment wildly. A satisfied grin appeared on Roman’s face as he pushed through them. He had grown a lot in his students’ eyes, but more importantly, he saw the light at the end of his problems.


	6. The Big Test

Roman hadn’t felt this accomplished in a long time. His hands hurt after all the congratulatory handshakes from his colleagues, who saw him as a messiah for science education, who transformed how everyone thought about teaching Physics. Roman would have lied if he had said he didn’t enjoy the spotlight. Their reaction was overdone, but still, it was great to shine in their admiration as long as it lasted. In a few days, his brilliance would be forgotten and the students still wouldn’t be overly interested in his lectures. It was a step in the right direction, but not the all-solving balm.

But to him, Erik’s reaction was the most important. His heart almost melted as Erik recalled during lunch that special Physics class he had seen first-hand. All of the teacher collective envied him for it, but Roman just sat there, on Erik’s right again, listening to the wonderful words that would remain with him until the end of his life. He couldn’t believe how much Erik remembered, or that he recited parts of his explanation word for word. Every detail was there, except for Roman flinching or hesitating to put his own life at risk. He didn’t mind that at all.

Word of his new lectures spread among the students, too, and he got questions from multiple classes about what they were going to do on their next Physics class. Roman couldn’t answer them. For now, he cared about just one Physics class, the one Mrs. Möller was going to visit. The headmistress surely wasn’t going to be blown away solely by his experiments and explanations through examples. He needed something better and bigger, so he spent the entire afternoon and evening preparing for that one class.

He didn’t even mind that Marco turned out to be forgetful when it came to his duties. The pile of unwashed plates would wait for Roman, and he didn’t get upset about the still empty fridge only because he couldn’t have swallowed a single bite anyways. He had no idea what he had done to make Mrs. Möller not like him, but they had started off on the wrong foot and their relationship hadn’t changed since then.

“Calm down, everything’s going to be fine,” Erik put his hand on Roman’s wrist the next morning to stop himself from checking the tools for the big experiment.

He had considered doing something simpler, something the more conservative Mrs. Möller would appreciate, too, but she was going to visit him on his class for the freshmen. He needed to have their undivided attention and that needed something special. Also, he wasn’t doing it to please Mrs. Möller – not only. He had the students’ wants in mind.

“Will _you_ stand in front of that pendulum? Because I won’t without another check,” Roman freed himself from Erik’s grip without appreciating the softness of the touch.

“You’ve checked it five times already,” Erik smiled, but followed Roman nonetheless. He knew what the older one was looking at by now.

The experiment was brilliant in its simplicity: a regular pendulum, with a heavy ball on its end. If Roman held it to his chin and then released it without giving it additional energy, he could stand there safely, without fear of getting hurt. That was the theory and it had worked on all his tests. But were his hands going to shake at showtime? The slightest jerk of a single finger could set the ball on an altered trajectory and he could say goodbye to his blazing white teeth.

“Mr. Bürki?” Mrs. Möller charged into the gymnasium.

She carried a heap of papers under her hand, its weight making her movement lopsided. Erik rushed over to her, taking the file and earning a short thanks. Roman adjusted the small break above the ball that was meant to minimize the risk of him hurting himself and then turned to Mrs. Möller.

“Care to explain why you have moved your class to the gymnasium?”

“I needed a bigger place for my demonstration than the Physics lab.”

“And what about Mr. Durm’s classes?”

“It’s warm enough outside, the guys will be happy to play football,” Erik explained.

“That’s not why the state had paid thousands to reconstruct the gymnasium you seem to be determined to destroy,” she said, not taking her eyes off Roman and his huge device hanging from the ceiling.

“I made all the necessary calculations and measurements. There’s no chance it will hit anything.” It would come close to one wall, but Roman’s head would be there for cushion.

“Can you tell that about our students, too?”

“I trust them. They are mature enough not to intervene with my explanation.” Mostly because they aren’t very interested in it, but Roman was silent about that detail.

“I don’t like it,” she said, and to underline it, she scribbled something into her notes. “But whatever you want,” she waved, not too convincingly and retreated into a far corner of the gymnasium.

Erik went with her, put her papers in the window and headed out of the room. “Good luck! And don’t let her boss you.”

“Thanks. I’ll try,” Roman sent a shy smile. “Could you let them in?”

“Sure. I’m going to pick up my class, anyways.”

Roman couldn’t stop himself from checking everything for a final time before the freshmen clumped into the gymnasium and gathered around him. Some had notebooks with them, but most didn’t even try to look like normal students.

“There’s one last type of movement we’ll have to talk about before we move onto a different field of Physics,” he started.

His voice quavered. He dreaded any dull glances from his students, he had the upcoming dangerous experiment in the back of his mind, and from the corner of his eyes, he could see Mrs. Möller making notes. It wasn’t a great combination and his heartbeat jumped to a value that couldn’t be considered healthy, not even humanlike. He forced himself to take a break, set his thoughts straight and then continue with a more upbeat tone.

“Now pendulums are one of the simplest physical models for movement. The thing holding it up is called the pivot,” he pointed at the ceiling. “Then comes a long rod and finally, the bob,” he took the ball in his hand. Its weight reminded him of his fears again. “In an ideal world, we would have a massless rod and no friction whatsoever. In such a case, the pendulum wouldn’t cease to swing. But, we don’t live in an ideal world, so our pendulums are subject to air resistance, and so they slow down with time, until they reach their calmest point, the so-called equilibrium.” He let go of the ball and placed it at rest. “Is there anyone who could give us an example of the pendulums’ use?”

_Please, don’t remain silent_ , he prayed. Explaining the new material was one thing, but it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to show Mrs. Möller that he could engage the students in new ways. The next seconds felt like an eternity, but finally, someone spoke up.

“Clocks? I saw a clock with a pendulum at my grandparents’ house.”

“That is correct,” Roman nodded. “Pendulum clocks aren’t popular anymore, but for centuries, they were the most precise time-keeping devices people had.”

“Until they found out they can keep time with their phones,” a mocking snort from the last rows interrupted him.

“Actually, pendulum clocks are much more precise than the clocks in our mobile phones. The best pendulum clocks had an accuracy of a second per a year, while you can make your cell phone’s clock lose time by simply traveling with it. Or if you happen to own a DeLorean.” No one got his comment. Did these kids never watch old films? “But back to our pendulum. There are two important indicators for a pendulum’s movement: period and amplitude.

“You already know period from circular movement. In this case, the period is the time needed for a left and right swing. The swing’s width is called the amplitude. Now the amazing thing that the pendulum’s period depends on the amplitude only the slightest. If I let go of this ball like this,” he pulled the ball out of its position for a few centimeters and let go of it, “the period will be the same if I do this.” He stopped the swinging, pulled the ball back a bit more and let go.

It started to swing with a much bigger speed, proving his point. “The interesting thing about pendulums is that in an environment with no air resistance, their amplitude will always be the same. So if I brought it this far,” he pulled at the ball again, “in a vacuum, it would swing back and forth, always coming up to this point. With air resistance, we can safely say that the amplitude will get smaller and smaller, until the ball stops at the equilibrium again.

“So why don’t we try it?” he raised his voice to get the attention of everyone in the gymnasium again.

He picked the ball up and walked with it to the nearest wall. He stood next to it, leaning his back against the paneling. The ball was getting heavier and heavier in his hand. He couldn’t wait any longer or he would back out. He raised the ball and held it with both hands to his chin.

“The law of conservation of energy tells us how the pendulum should work. If I don’t give any initial speed to this ball, gravitation will pull it towards the equilibrium, but it will have enough kinetic energy by then to swing to the other side and then come back to this side. I expect some of its energy to disappear due to air friction. Even if it doesn’t, I can be sure that swinging back, the ball will at worst touch my chin, but never break it.” He was sure. For about 80 per cent.

“To have a good look, you should line up along the windows,” he jerked his head in said direction. That was half of the truth. He also wanted them far enough from the pendulum not to get hurt or throw the ball at him.

They took his order and moved to the windows with a lot of noise. They whispered and chuckled, imagining different scenarios that would be more enjoyable to them then the outcome described by Roman. A few girls fought for the best places in the corner, but Mrs. Möller ended their arguments.

“Perfect,” Roman croaked out. His heartrate was elevated and his hands started to shake. “The important thing now for me is to just simply let go of the ball without pushing it in any direction. If I fail, you’re going to have another Physics teacher.”

An unsure laughter swept through the class, but then they fell silent. The tension and anticipation was tangible in the room, just like Roman wanted it. He closed his eyes for a moment, mustering his self-control. As showtime approached, his hands stopped shaking and he knew that it was now or never.

“Alright! Three, two, one, zero.”

At that, he released the ball. The period at this length of rope and weight of ball would be around five seconds. It was the longest five seconds in Roman’s life so far.

In such situations, you don’t want to watch the thing that could potentially crush your skull, but he forced himself to follow the ball with his eyes. He had to notice anything out of order if he wanted to live.

He didn’t see anything. The ball swung to the other side, slowed down, stopped at its amplitude, and then, started swinging backwards.

It gathered speed. A lot of speed. Much more than Roman wanted to see, but still within the expected boundaries. His brain told him that he was safe, but there wasn’t another part of his body that was willing to believe it. His legs went numb, threatening to give in, but he didn’t move.

He brought his arms to his sides and waited for that final second. The ball swished through the air as it got closer and closer to his chin. Then it disappeared from his vision.

He only heard a few of his students screaming as the ball finally touched his chin, scratching against his stubble. It was only the slightest touch, and then, the ball was gone again.

Roman waited for two more cycles of swinging, in utter silence, then he stepped away from the wall and held onto the rope suspending the ball. Only then did the students break out in a loud cheer.

“You see? If you know physics, you know what to be afraid of,” Roman laughed.

Someone clapped and other followed suit. Roman blushed and waved away the applause, but once again, he closed it into his heart and saved it well in his memories. Here was a class he didn’t want to teach just a few days ago, and now, he enjoyed giving a lecture to them.

“Now, if you all had notebooks with you, we could prove Earth’s rotation using this pendulum, but unfortunately,” he raised his hands in helplessness.

He didn’t want to believe it, but the students were disappointed. They started convincing him to remember the lesson right away, but they should stay here and watch the pendulum swing back and forth.

“This is what we’ll do,” Roman ended the sudden debate. “We’ll move to the laboratory now, I’ll explain to you how pendulums move, and then, we’ll come back to check if our planet really rotates. Deal?”

Unwillingly, but they agreed. Roman brought the ball to the wall again and released it. He walked to its other side, marking the direction in which it swung with a piece of duct tape.

“Pendulums conserve the direction of their swinging, but the ground under them turns because of Earth’s rotation. When we come back at the end of the class, we’ll see that the ball won’t swing along this duct tape, its swing will be turned by a few degrees.”

“No way!” someone shouted with exaggerated drama.

“We’ll see,” Roman winked at them and then led them out of the gymnasium.

Mrs. Möller was the last to leave. If Roman expected to read something out of her face or her notes, he was disappointed. She was an expressionless statues, just like usually, and she held her notes tight against her body. But just before she stepped out of the room, she sent a last glance at the pendulum.

The rest of the class went well. Roman didn’t get everyone’s attention, but a much higher portion of the students was taking notes or commenting what he was explaining. The weirdest thing was that they actually asked if they didn’t understand something. They wanted to figure out how Roman could be so sure that he wouldn’t get hurt, and it felt like a fresh breeze in the laboratory, where motivation among the students had been lacking for years.

He made a mental note not to leave an experiment unfinished in the middle of the class. Every second question he got during his lecture was about the pendulum still swinging in the gymnasium, whether it would really work and when they were going to check it. When the time finally came and they went to the gymnasium to see the pendulum swing in a slightly altered direction, the students couldn’t believe it to be true. They suspected some sort of manipulation while they were in the physics laboratory, even though Roman had locked the door to the gymnasium. He got a minor headache from the shouting and stream of objection, but at least he saw that his students cared.

“Mr. Bürki, a word,” Mrs. Möller stepped to him while Roman watched the class leave well after the bell rang. “First of all, I have no objections against your new method of teaching, but I would be much calmer if you chose less dangerous experiments.”

“I can assure you that it is safe,” Roman said. He had no idea why he was playing down the dangers in what he was doing.

“Is it?” she cocked her head.

“Well, the physics is all there to prove it. As long as the students didn’t intervene with the pendulum, I was safe, and so were they.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. We could do without that as long as part…”

“Look, Mrs. Möller, I trust my students,” Roman stood up for his right, remembering Erik’s words. Just as he did that, the brunet walked into the gymnasium, carrying a bag of football balls. “They aren’t children anymore, I know they understand the risks of something like this. Even if they didn’t, I had enough time to intervene if things went wrong.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Mr. Bürki. But please, consider my concern,” she said, which in her dictionary meant that Roman was supposed to give her right and do as she wished.

She ended the conversation with an assertive nod and trudged out of the gymnasium. Roman watched her leave, his hands furling the rope on their own.

“How did it go?” Erik asked him.

“Fine, I guess,” Roman sighed. “The kids loved it, and she…” he shrugged in cluelessness.

“She’ll appreciate it,” Erik reassured him. He smiled in happiness for his friend, but there was something behind that gesture.

“Is something troubling you?” Roman groped. He didn’t want to sound intrusive, Erik hated it, but it looked like there was too much weighing down on Erik’s shoulders.

“It’s fine,” Erik waved. “It’s just that some students don’t know what they can and cannot do.”

“So there’s nothing new under the sun,” Roman laughed, patting Erik’s shoulder. “Thank you once again for lending your gymnasium, I promise I’ll come up with experiments needing less space for the next week.”

The bell announced the start of the next lesson, and a new group of students, all dressed in training gears poured in. Roman said goodbye to Erik, got his things and hurried out before he could find himself in the middle of a wild game.

There was silence on the corridors and he loved it. He could fully enjoy his small victory. Erik was right, Mrs. Möller would understand what he was doing and why. Considering how much he had been afraid of this inspection, he did great. Now there was only that other investigation of hers to get done with, and then he would finally be left alone.

He smiled under his nose as he strolled towards his laboratory. There was still more than an hour before his next class. He walked past the locker rooms and was turning into the stairwell when he bumped into someone.

“Elsa,” he jolted in surprise. “Shouldn’t you be on PE?”

She looked back at him horrified, her skin red around her eyes. Roman’s first thought was that she had been crying, but it looked more like she had been trying to rub out a few tears.

“Leave me alone, you idiot!” she hissed with such venom that it left Roman dumbfounded. He stood frozen in place as the girl picked up her schoolbag and hurried away from him, towards the main entrance to the school.

“Elsa!” Roman called after her, but she didn’t stop.


	7. World Upside Down

Weekends always brought a welcome two days of recuperation, and after such a straining week, Roman didn’t want to climb out of bed whatsoever. Waking up turned out to be a mistake anyways. When he opened his eyes, well after eight o’clock and stumbled into the bathroom in his briefs, he was up for the biggest surprise in his home ever since he had moved in here.

In the shower stall, undisturbed from him, a woman was having a shower, immersed in humming the melody of the newest hit. Roman rubbed his eyes, just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. Disbelief soon turned into anger and he stormed out of the bathroom, already forgetting about why he had gone there in the first place.

“Marco, you’re in huge trouble!” he burst into the living room, headed towards his brother.

Marco was bundled up in a blanket, his face telling Roman that this wasn’t the waking up he had envisioned for himself. His features curled up in a grimace as he looked at Roman, frowning, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“What’s wrong?” he croaked out, running his hand through his hair. He reached for his phone to check the time, but seeing that he wasn’t going to reach it without moving to the side of the sofa, he gave up on his efforts.

“I tell you what’s wrong! There’s a woman having a shower in my bathroom,” Roman hissed.

“I wouldn’t call it a problem,” Marco yawned. “That’s just a healthy sex life.”

“Do I look like I care about what you two have been up to? Who is she?”

“Didn’t she tell you her name?” Marco asked back, and a horrible realization dawned on Roman.

“Don’t tell me that you don’t know her name.”

“Of course I do,” Roman smiled innocently, the way he always did when wanted to convince someone.

He sat up, which seemingly took him a ton of effort, leaned forward, almost toppling over, and started rummaging in a handbag lying next to the couch. Roman watched the scene in disbelief, not sure what he should do. Talking to Marco and bringing him to reason didn’t feel like a viable option anymore, but kicking him out of his flat still felt too much. Marco didn’t stop until he found her wallet.

“Caro. I knew I remembered correctly,” he announced triumphantly, showing her ID to Roman.

“I– I–” Roman slumped his shoulders. What was he supposed to do right now? “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going back to my room, and you’ll come see me once she is out of the flat. And if I were you, I’d hurry. A lot.”

He left before Marco could have hit back with another snarky comment. Living with Marco had never seemed to be easy, mostly because his brother got stuck in his late teenage-years, and he showed proof of that over and over again. But Roman hadn’t expected that he would go this far and this quickly.

With Marco, you never knew. He could be sensible and listen to you, but he’d take the first opportunity to forget about his promises. Now it was Roman’s job to do something about it. And he didn’t like it.

He crawled back into his bed. Nothing would have been better than pulling the cover on himself, closing his eyes and sleep until this morning felt like a distant bad memory, but sleep didn’t come. He turned and tossed, then checked his phone, counting the seconds until Marco would get rid of Caro. It felt like an eternity.

There were voices in the living room, and he heard Caro getting ready for leaving, but it couldn’t happen fast enough. His only concern now was that Marco would leave with her. It wouldn’t come as a surprise. His brother had been running away from responsibility for most of his life, why would he change that right now? He was afraid of his talk with Marco, and he didn’t want to have it at all. This was their parents’ job. No, that wasn’t right. Marco was a grown-up man. He shouldn’t have needed a lecture on being a polite and thoughtful guest.

“Okay, she’s gone, I hope you’re happy,” Marco walked into the room and sat down on the edge of Roman’s bed. He looked terribly, but Roman wasn’t going to pity him.

“No, I’m not happy,” he sat up so suddenly that he surprised even himself. A rage burnt inside him, but he wasn’t going to burst out in anger. It wouldn’t have led to a solution. Marco needed to be dealt with in a special way, but Roman didn’t know what it was. For the time being, he decided to listen. “Care to tell me what happened last night?”

“I thought you weren’t interested in my private life.” The bile in his voice had no grounding.

“I meant the hours leading up to you two coming to my home.”

“It’s my home now, too!” Marco hit back. A snarky comment was on Roman’s lips, but he swallowed it back. “I was out, having a good time. I met Caro, we talked, we enjoyed each other’s company and we decided that we would enjoy it a bit longer. Do you want to give me the talk about sex, or what? You’re a few years late with it.”

“I have no objections against what you do in the nights, I just would be glad if you didn’t do it unnoticed in my apartment,” Roman said it the simplest way he could find. “You know, it’s not too pleasant to wake up with a stranger in your home.”

“I’m not to blame that this flat hasn’t seen many one-night stands,” Marco snorted. A second later, his face distorted in a mixture of guilt and regret. “Shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it that way.”

Marco had a special talent of making Roman want to throw him out on the street. He had accomplished it twice already within an hour, and if he didn’t change his attitude in this conversation, it might come to a third time. For now, Roman took a deep breath and let the comment go past his ears. Although, whom was he kidding? Marco’s words hurt. They hurt like poisoned blades running deep into his heart, the initial pain multiplied by the killing substance spreading out into every part of his body. It was that well-known freezing ache that left his chest hollow, as if he were incapable of loving. A part of the world definitely thought that he shouldn’t love.

“God, I’m an idiot,” Marco rued his outburst, and at least that much was coming from him honestly. He sent a cautious glance at Roman, and then, he slid closer to him. “I’m sorry. You are right, I was a dickhead. I shouldn’t have brought Caro here. It won’t happen again, I promise. In fact, if you want to throw me out–”

“Don’t start with that bullshit again!” Roman snarled. “You won’t trick me into feeling sorry for you. I don’t want you to run away when things get uncomfortable. I want to see you get your shit together, because you’re hurting not only me, but yourself too. And you’re dumb for not seeing it.”

He had no idea where he had taken the courage to utter his opinion this candidly. And he had no idea how come Marco didn’t storm out of the room upon hearing it. Maybe it was the tone with which Roman had spoken. He wasn’t condescending. He spoke with the worry of an older brother who sees his sweet brother wasting his life away.

“Tell me, did you at least find a job?” He felt that the question needed some rephrasing. The answer to this one was too obvious. “Did you look for one?”

“I tried,” Marco nodded. “The first two days. After that, I realized that no one wanted me.”

The sadness wasn’t that of a beaten puppy’s. He wasn’t trying to evoke sympathy; he was sad about his failure and he had had to swallow a bitter pill to admit it to Roman. But now that it was out, Roman felt like a huge wall between them had crumbled down.

“They were all welcoming and friendly at the beginning, and told me how grateful they were for my application. Then, we started with the interview and minute after minute, I saw their passion flicker. None of them called me again, and I don’t think they ever will,” he hung his head low. “Dad’s right. I’m a failure.”

“No, you’re not,” Roman stated with certainty. He climbed over to Marco and put his arm around his shoulder. “Give yourself more time. You can’t expect to rush and win all the job interview offices. You’re a great character and if you get serious about doing something, you do it really well. That’s the side that you want to show them. Believe me, they’ll treat you much differently if you do that.”

“That’s easy to say,” Marco snorted, not too convinced. “You tell me that, but I’m not sure if I can do it. To be honest, I don’t even know why you trust me so much.”

“Because that’s what brothers do,” Roman smiled at him. “When they don’t annoy each other for no good reason.” It finally brought a chuckle out of Marco. “Come on, I feel like having a lazy morning. Why don’t we go out and get a breakfast?”

“A perfect idea,” Marco’s eyes lit up. “I’m inviting!”

 

They weren’t the only ones enjoying a lazy Saturday morning. The little square was filling up with people sitting down at one of the many cafés and restaurants to have their late breakfast or early lunches. It still wasn’t warm enough for the sunshades to be opened, and so people chatted under the lukewarm sunshine, relatives and friends talking about the annoyances of the past week, forgetting them for good.

“I can’t fathom why you like this place so much,” Marco groused, probably only to drawn out his stomach’s hungry groans.

They had been sitting there for almost ten minutes now, without the waiter stopping by them, even though he was running up and down among the tables, taking and delivering the orders of everyone but them. Roman didn’t even hear Marco’s protest. His eyes returned to the couple sitting two tables away from them for the umpteenth time.

Two men sat there of Roman’s age by the looks of them, their smiles never fading. They were lost in each other’s eyes and didn’t even notice the small wasp that had decided to take a sniff of the freshly brewed orange juice standing between them. They talked quietly, in the intimacy unmistakable for young couples totally in love.

“Never mind, I see now,” Marco sighed, following Roman’s gaze and understanding the reason why his brother had brought him here.

Whenever Roman decided to go in the city, he came here. The _Funhouse_ was everything its name suggested, but with style. Throughout the day, it invited its customers for delicious coffee and tee and fresh pastry. But once night came, half of the tables was packed in the storage room and the interior turned into a cozy bar with great music and an atmosphere for making new acquaintances or deepening the existing ones. Most important though, it was a place loved by everyone, irrespective of preferences.

Roman had nothing against gay bars, he visited some of them occasionally, but he didn’t want to be spotted near one of them by one of his students. The _Funhouse_ was different. He could come here without arousing suspicion and unwanted questions.

“Hey, boys, I’m sorry I’m this late, but it’s more like _Mad-house_ today,” the waiter finally stopped by them.

He was a tanned guy a few years older than Roman. He wore the usual black jeans and white shirt of waiters, his beard neatly trimmed and his hair slicked back with a generous amount of pomade.

“It’s fine, Yann,” Roman reassured him.

Yann wasn’t exactly his friend, but it was someone he liked to talk to – most of the time. Because too often, Yann became a pain in the ass, especially when he forced Roman to talk about his private life.

“And who’s the young gentleman here?” Yann’s eyebrow ran up his forehead.

“Marco, Roman’s brother,” Marco introduced himself with a short nod. He was about to open his mouth to order his breakfast, but Yann cut him short.

“So breakfast number two twice, with a glass of beer and some mineral water,” Yann nodded and walked away.

“What the heck was that?” Marco asked, baffled.

“Yes, that’s the deal with Yann. He somehow knows what kind of food and drink you need the most. You can disagree with him, of course, but after a year or so, I’ve found out that there’s no reason to do that. He knows his guests, that’s all. This place would have shut down long ago if not for him.”

“Strange,” Marco shrugged but didn’t push the matter any further.

Even more so because Yann was already returning with two trays ready for them. When the waiter took your order for you, he could place it even before you could have spoken to him.

“Enjoy your breakfast, boys, it’s on the house today,” Yann placed the plates on the table with routine. As he was pulling his hand back though, he hit Roman’s glass of water and spilled it all onto his lap.

“What the–” Roman snapped, not believing that this could happen twice the same week.

“I’m awfully sorry, Roman,” Yann apologized with no deep conviction. “We have some dry towels, would you mind coming with me?” He asked, already on his way.

Roman didn’t protest. When Yann was up to something, you didn’t. Another side of him were what he called his “doings”. A more ill-advised person would call them tampering with others’ lives, but Yann never took that sort of criticism to his heart. He saw himself more than a waiter to his guests and he felt compelled to take care of their personal problems as much as he could. That in itself would have been reason enough for Roman to stay away from this place. His personal life was a mess and not even Yann could make a sense of it. But oddly enough, after his first attempt, Roman had craved being a victim to Yann’s doings again.

This time though, it wasn’t about him. The moment he stepped inside the building, he recognized the figure sitting with his back to him at the table in the darkest part of the huge room.

“He doesn’t talk to me, maybe he will to you,” Yann whispered to him. “Sorry about the water, it’ll dry up quickly, though.”

Roman let the plea slide past his ears. He was already walking towards the man with crouched shoulders.

“Hey, good morning! I didn’t see you here. What’s up?” he sat down in front of Erik without waiting for an invitation.

Looking at Erik, he wouldn’t have gotten one. He looked at Roman with the eyes of someone who had been somewhere completely else in his thoughts a few moments ago. It took him a second or two to recognize Roman, and then he uttered a groan that could have easily passed as a _get out_ or a _nice to see you_.

“Is something troubling you?” Roman inquired about what was obvious. Something was troubling Erik. It wasn’t simply troubling him. The way he looked, it was eating him alive. “Tell me.”

He could have been talking to a brick wall. Erik stared at his beer mug, now half-empty and didn’t look like speaking at all.

“You know, I’m here with Marco. We’re sitting outside, don’t you want to join us? It’s a nice day.”

“Leave me alone.” It wasn’t the nicest thing to hear, but they were getting somewhere.

“Look, Erik, I see that something’s wrong and you know that I won’t leave until you tell me what it is and how I can help you. Why don’t we spare ourselves that awkward start to the conversation and–”

“You cannot help me,” Erik croaked out.

Roman paled at the brutal honesty in it. He had never seen Erik like this. Usually, Erik was the more upbeat from the two of them, he was the one looking on the bright side of things and looking in the future with optimism. Seeing him like this didn’t feel only wrong. It was as if someone had suddenly jerked Roman into a different world where everything was the other way around. But mostly, seeing Erik like this and the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it hurt him.

“What happened? You’re scaring me.”

“Elsa Reiter,” Erik spat with venom, “that little bitch.”

“What?” Roman forgot to close his mouth. He wanted to believe that it was the alcohol talking, but he doubted Erik had drunk that much.

“Friday afternoon, just as I’m about to go home, Mrs. Möller calls me into her office. Apparently, Elsa told everyone that I’m molesting her. Cheers to that, right?” he lifted his mug with a strained grin and took a huge sip of the beer.

Roman didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even think straight. A sudden coldness ran down his spine. Nothing mattered anymore. Not Mrs. Möller’s inspection or her bloody investigation. Not Marco and the way he had turned his world upside down. Not even Julian who had stormed in and taken his place at the school. He cared only about Erik, who sat in front of him with detached resignation.

“How could she say something like that? What happened?”

“I have no idea. All I can think of is Thursday morning. You know, after your Physics class, they had PE. I was going to the pitch to the boys, when I ran into her. She was half-dressed, that’s true, but it’s not like I was looking for her. She wasn’t even in the girls’ locker room, for fuck’s sake!”

“Hey, hey, I know that. I’m sure things will work out,” Roman said. He sucked at reassuring.

“Yes, they usually do in such situations, don’t they?” Erik snorted. “Let’s face it, I’m done for the rest of my life.”

“Did you tell Möller that you couldn’t possibly do it?”

“And have even more parents complaining that a gay teacher is around their boys? No, thanks.”

“But why would she lie like that? Did you talk to her?”

“No,” Erik shook his head. “Apparently, I cannot face my accuser as long as I am not clean of suspicion. And maybe that’s for the better. Because if I saw her right now, I would wring her neck out like–”

“Okay, okay, point made,” Roman stopped him before he could get lost in his hatred. “But this is preposterous! I mean, her lies and accusations. No one will believe her once all sides will be heard. I’m going to talk to Mrs. Möller first thing Monday. Once she hears about Elsa’s drawing, she’ll–”

“What drawing?” Erik furrowed his brows.

“Well, I caught her drawing you on my class. _That_ way.”

“What?” Erik snapped, but it wasn’t out of shock, rather out of anger. “And you didn’t tell me? Roman, how could you be so dense? You should have warned me about it! Shit, please tell me that you have the drawing.”

“Not really,” Roman drawled. He didn’t need Erik’s icy look to feel even more horribly.

Erik was right, he was a fool. Why did he give Elsa her sketchbook back? But back then, it didn’t feel like a huge deal, only a student doodling. He had had no idea it would grow into such a mess, and something told him he hadn’t seen half of the mess yet.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Erik scoffed and sprang up. “I thought I could count on you. Is there anything you aren’t telling me, or letting her ruin my life is enough for you?”

“Erik, please,” Roman tried, but it was to no avail. Erik waved away his explanations and stormed out of the café.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise things won't get any more complicated after this, and the boys will start to work to a solution soon. I'd be glad to know what you think of the chapter and the story, I hope you enjoyed the update. :-)


	8. Evil and Good

The weekend passed by without Roman noticing it. A deep need to act burned inside him, and he could focus on nothing else. He needed to talk to Erik, but he couldn’t reach his friend. He spent Saturday afternoon knocking on his door and ringing his doorbell, but there was no answer. It might have been only because Erik wasn’t at home, but the dread that he didn’t want to talk to Roman crept deeper and deeper into his heart.

He also wanted to talk to Mrs. Möller, to speak up for his friend. It wouldn’t have made a huge difference even if the headmistress were available during the weekends. She stuck to the proper procedures and she wouldn’t weigh in whatever Roman would say out of office hours. He wasn’t sure she would care about his testimony whatsoever.

He wanted to go and visit the Reiters, to talk some sense into Elsa and explain to her what a horrible thing she was doing only to… the worst thing in it all was that Roman had no clue what Elsa wanted to accomplish. If it had happened to another teacher, Roman could find some reason if he had tried really hard. But Erik was the favorite of everyone in the school, not only students, but teachers as well. He wouldn’t hurt anyone and that’s why Roman was so upset about him being hurt.

Then, of course, he was mad at himself. It would have been so easy to prevent this all if only he had acted according to the rules. A simple report about Elsa’s drawing on his class would have prevented everything. All would have’s and imagined actions that he couldn’t do anything about. Erik was in deep shit and it was Roman who had let Elsa push him there.

The most he could do right now was think and it was killing him. One’s thoughts were one’s biggest enemy and Roman now had the perfect opportunity to experience the truth in it. He imagined countless talks and pleas in Erik’s defense, but the worst of it was that he couldn’t test them if they would work. And the slightest doubt was enough to bring a dark cloud above his head.

He made sure that talking to Mrs. Möller was the first thing he did on Monday. He got up before sunrise and rushed to the school. He arrived first, which hadn’t happened before, but he felt he couldn’t be there soon enough. The damage was already done and they needed every luck to somehow undo it.

“Someone’s eager to get the result of my inspection,” Mrs. Möller chuckled softly when she spotted Roman standing in front of her office’s door half an hour later.

“No, this someone is eager to stop an unjust accusation,” Roman said.

He was rude and he knew it. He couldn’t care. His friend’s honor was at stake and he would sacrifice his own if it helped Erik. The air froze in the teachers’ room as the few colleagues who had arrived in the meantime all looked at them. They sensed that a serious and heated conversation was about to start between them, and they didn’t want to miss it.

“Let’s discuss it inside,” Mrs. Möller still smiled, but it turned to a less honest and more menacing expression.

“Since when do we listen to anyone trying to frame up one of the teachers?” Roman barely waited until she closed the door. “I thought we were supposed to be a collective holding together at all costs, through good and bad and all that shit.”

“Watch your tongue, Mr. Bürki,” she raised her voice and her index finger. She walked to her desk and sit down in the huge office chair. “I presume you are talking about Mr. Durm’s case. It is a sad and especially delicate problem that will be addressed with the utmost care. We haven’t made a big deal out of it so far, so I’ll ask you to wait until we can start a proper investigation into the matter.”

She was calm, too calm for Roman’s liking. Her big idea was that if she acted as a detached leader, her teachers would look up to her and never question her decisions and management. All she accomplished was that Roman hated her for not caring. To her, Erik was just another employee, someone she could kick out any time and replace with ease. Theirs was one of the best schools in the region, teachers would kill each other to get a place in the faculty. She knew it and was ready to exploit it.

“There’s no point in any investigation!” Roman spat. He put his fists on the tabletop, his knuckles turning white. “Elsa’s lying, it’s simple as that.”

“Do you have any evidence?” she raised her eyebrow.

“My given word,” Roman said and for some reason, it amused Mrs. Möller very much.

“Your camaraderie touches my heart, Mr. Bürki. It showcases the teambuilding we’ve been doing all these years. I’m sure other colleagues will speak up for Mr. Durm, but I’m afraid we cannot rely on words only. Not in this situation.”

“You believe Elsa.”

“I have no other choice. Such accusations should be taken seriously, don’t you agree?”

“Not if they are ungrounded.”

“If they are, it will be proven, and Ms. Reiter will have to bear the consequences. Until then, Mr. Durm will remain suspended.”

Roman didn’t understand why Erik hadn’t believed him when he had told him that everything would be alright. Now, he did. Mrs. Möller’s words were so empty and vain. What Elsa did, couldn’t be undone. Even if Erik’s innocence would be proven, he could never get rid of the stigma of this accusation. Roman knew that, and he also knew that he wouldn’t care about that stigma.

Only now was he realizing the nature of the feelings he held for Erik. Now, in this dire situation, he knew he was going to stand by him. Not only in the upcoming weeks or months, but his entire life. That’s what he wanted and it was crystal-clear to him. He didn’t care about the dark cloud hanging above Erik’s head, its shadow could never touch the purity of the love in Roman’s heart.

“Last week, I caught Elsa drawing on my class,” he spoke slowly, giving the needed emphasis to all of his words. “I didn’t mention it, because I believed she could be trusted with treating it correctly. She was drawing Erik, in a very indecent manner. I suspect she has feelings for him, but I can assure you, they are unrequited. That’s why she started this campaign, I’m sure about that.”

“Once again, Mr. Bürki, I need evidence, not just words. Anyone can say anything, including you or even Ms. Reiter.”

“For fuck’s sake, believe me! Will you put a stupid teenage girl’s word ahead of your colleagues’ word? If you truly know us, you know that Erik could never do anything of the sort Elsa described.”

“Mr. Bürki, I think it would be for the best if you left right now,” Mrs. Möller said. It wasn’t a command, but she made no doubts about her losing her patience. “As for my inspection last week, I’m satisfied with your approach to Physics teaching. I only hope that you will keep costs and risks to the minimum. We don’t want any complaints from students and parents, do we?”

Roman didn’t even hear the last sentences. How could she be so inconsiderate? Erik was fighting for his job and career, in a sense his life too, and yet, he wasn’t allowed to really fight? Everything would be done with believing Elsa and whatever she said? It felt like a bad dream, but Roman knew there was no waking up from it.

He stumbled out of Mrs. Möller’s office like a zombie. He walked through the teachers’ room without looking at anyone. They wanted to talk to him and he wanted to be left alone. He needed some time to accept reality. Time, that he wasn’t given.

The moment he stepped outside the teachers’ room, he knew he should have stayed inside. There they were, Elsa with her parents. She didn’t look touched by the storm she had started whatsoever. Her parents were upset, that was clear to see, but Elsa only smiled like a careless teenager who didn’t understand that life wasn’t just happening to her, there were causes and consequences.

Roman wanted to stop by her and tell her off, and at the same time, there was that conviction that he couldn’t do it. He shouldn’t do it. Whatever he would say would only make matters worse. So he turned his head the other way and steeled himself for passing them.

He came to a sudden halt when the other door to Mrs. Möller’s office was flung open and the headmistress invited the Reiters in. The parents were quick to obey, but Elsa stammered a lame excuse about rather staying outside and not having to go through the same talks again. Everyone was so understanding, it almost made Roman retch.

Once the door was closed again, he forced himself to go on. Stopping to talk with Elsa would have led to problems. He held his head high and watched the gray wall. His legs almost buckled under him, but he wanted to look strong. After all, Elsa had no problems with him, why would he talk to her?

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” she croaked out dryly.

Roman stopped. If he hadn’t been the only one near, he would have guessed that Elsa wasn’t talking to him. What was she saying?

“Excuse me?” Roman turned around.

As he caught a glimpse of Elsa’s eyes, he broke out in sweat. They were full with pure evil and hatred. Her lips curled up in a smirk of mockery and satisfaction. Whatever she was playing for, she was succeeding, and Roman was only starting to realize that it meant much more than he had thought at first.

“Not being allowed to live your love, unable to stand up for it and watch only powerlessly as you are a toy to other, bigger forces,” she said. Roman didn’t understand her words. He knew the meaning of them, but they didn’t make any sense to him. “I do not forget, Mr. Bürki. You humiliated me in front of the whole class. Do you have any idea how many questions I got? How many wild guesses I’ve heard about what I might have been drawing that upset you that much? Do you enjoy your own medicine? Don’t worry, I’m sure people will start talking about why you are so adamant on taking Durm’s side in this business, and the guessing will eat you alive.”

Roman was cold. His hands started to shake, threatening to drop the bunch of papers he was holding. The reality unfolding in front of him was too far-fetched to believe. The thought that he was somehow responsible for this all, that he caused Erik’s suffering, was unbearable. He didn’t recognize Elsa. Such coldness seeped through her words that it made the hair on his arms and neck stand up.

“But will you be able to utter the truth? To give them the real reason? Will you tell _him_ why you care so much about him?” she whispered. She stepped closer to Roman and he made an involuntary step backwards. She was gaining ground and she felt it. “I don’t think you will. You are a coward. You haven’t told him yet after all, right? What are you afraid of, Mr. Bürki? Of hate? Disgust? Refusal? You will experience all of them, don’t worry. I will take care of it.”

“Why him?” Roman croaked out. He had no idea where he had found the strength to do it. “If you have a problem with me, why do you hurt Erik?”

“Oh, I’m hurting you,” she let out an evil cackle. “Durm is just a tool. Don’t get me wrong, I love him. But I can’t be his, and neither will you.”

Later, Roman came up with a bunch of possible comebacks. He should have told her off, remind her of her position and the dangers of false accusations. He should have told her that she wouldn’t succeed, that he would fight for Erik and win his heart. But at that moment, in the coldness of the corridor, he could only stand dumbfounded. Elsa watched him with that smug expression that made Roman’s heart heavy. He was suffocating.

He had no idea how long they stood there like that. It felt like an eternity, but it couldn’t be more than a few seconds. It ended when the door to the teachers’ room was opened and Julian walked out. On the surface, he looked as carefree as ever, but something told Roman that he was shook by the news about Erik. He didn’t show it though, and Roman envied him for his strength. He had no idea how much Erik meant to Julian, but it was more than casual collegiality.

“Roman, could you give me a hand? I need to prepare a few easels.”

It was the lamest excuse, but Roman didn’t realize it. He only felt Julian’s hand on his shoulder and the younger one pulling him away from the creature Elsa had become. He looked back once more, but he only saw an innocent-looking teenage girl anxious about the uncomfortable situation she was in.

“What happened there?” Julian whispered when they were a few corners away from Elsa.

“She’s a harpy,” Roman said it, and he was watching his tongue. “You’ve heard what she said about Erik, right?”

Julian nodded, “I think the whole school knows by now.”

“But you don’t believe her, do you?”

“Of course not,” Julian snorted. “I don’t know Erik as well as you do, but he would never do something like this. And I also saw what I saw a minute ago. You looked completely shocked by her. What is she up to?”

“I don’t know what she wants to achieve,” Roman blurted out a shallow lie, “but I don’t like it.”

They arrived at Julian’s studio. The young teacher opened the door in a hurry and let Roman in.

“I just know that I need to help Erik somehow, but Mrs. Möller wouldn’t listen to me. I could prove that Elsa is lying, well I could have proven it a week ago, but now… all is lost and it’s my fault.” He buried his face in his hands and he didn’t start to cry only because he was too embarrassed to do it in front of Julian.

“Not so quickly. Why don’t you tell me what you know? Maybe we can figure something out.”

Roman didn’t believe him. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. But as he looked up at Julian, he saw something akin to Erik’s strength in his eyes and he started to talk. He told Julian everything about that fateful Physics class and Elsa’s drawing. He told him what he heard from Erik, the incident on Thursday and his suspicion that Elsa had feelings for Erik. He told him everything apart from why it meant so much to him if Erik were acquitted, and ideally, thanks to Roman’s endeavors.

Julian listened without judgment, and that was what Roman needed. After he was finished, there was a long moment of silence as Julian processed what he heard, and then he nodded.

“You say she was drawing in her sketchbook?”

“Yes, but I doubt she kept the drawing. It must be lying in the garbage now, or maybe she has burnt it.”

“That might be the case, but I still think we can prove that it existed.”


	9. A Little Bit of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still following this story, I hope you find enjoyment in it, even though it doesn't deal with happy issues right now, but it will get better, I promise. I might speed up the updates, it's great motivation for me to write and hopefully it will work in the future. :-)

Roman came home to an empty apartment and it had never felt this empty before. He wouldn’t have thought it, but the few days with Marco had made a huge difference. By now, he was looking forward to tell Marco about his day. He might not have gotten a pair of attentive ears, but it was enough for Roman after the long months of loneliness. And today, he needed to talk to someone. He stopped on his way by Erik’s place, just in case, but there still wasn’t any answer. His only hope lay in Marco, which was ironic enough. Marco wasn’t someone you could talk about your feelings and deepest doubts with. He hadn’t seen enough of the worse side of life to understand what you were talking about, but sometimes it was his optimism and shallow carelessness that Roman needed.

Almost an hour passed before Marco came home, carrying two bags full of groceries. Roman allowed himself a shy smile. In the middle of all the hardships, at least that much was starting to work.

“Sorry I’m late, I was making arrangements for a job,” Marco apologized, already unpacking things. It wasn’t just a casual shopping, Roman now saw. Those were the ingredients of their dinner.

“Did you find something?” Roman asked, not paying attention to Marco’s words. He stood up and helped Marco.

“Excuse me?” Marco snapped. “I wasn’t _looking_ for a job, I was getting ready for one.”

That caught Roman off-guard. He looked at his brother bewildered, his jaw dropped and his eyes scanning for the slightest clue for a stupid Marco Bürki joke.

“You were right, I only needed to think about what I wanted to do. In fact, it turns out that the kinds of job I was looking for aren’t for me at all. But you opened my eyes.”

“What? I did nothing,” Roman hated if he didn’t understand what was going on. He was a man of science and knowledge, driven by the desire to understand.

“The _Funhouse_. You brought me there, and while you were inside doing whatever it was you were up to, I chatted with Yann. At first, I didn’t know what to think of his methods, but it turns out, I like them. And I’d like to be like him. To be there for people, take some of their problems away from them, even if it’s just for a little while. The more I talked with Yann, the surer I was of it.”

“What, you’re going to be a waiter or what?” Roman didn’t even try to hide his scorn and condescension.

“Hey, I thought all jobs were equally valuable,” Marco was somewhat upset and it startled Roman. He really meant this seriously.

“Sorry, I’m just– never mind. If that’s what you think you should do, then good luck!”

“Thanks. And to answer your question, I’ll be a barman of a sort,” he said proudly. “And I’ll show you why it’s the perfect fit for me.”

He said it with so much determination that it left Roman completely dumbfounded. Before he could have recovered from the shock of the news, Marco grabbed him by the arm and pushed him down on the nearest chair. Roman had no idea how to react. This wasn’t like his brother at all. At first, he thought that it was another of Marco’s stupid childish games, but there was only serious care in his eyes.

“Now, you’ll tell me what’s been troubling you the whole weekend,” he had that inspecting look that reached deep inside Roman’s soul and didn’t leave space for objection. “And I’ll get you a tea.”

At first Roman wanted to point out that tea was hardly the kind of beverage a barman was supposed to serve, but then he changed his mind. After all, he was getting exactly what he had been hoping for, why would he refuse it? In fact, what he was getting was even more than he had expected. He had Marco’s undivided attention which was a big step forward on its own.

“Um, what sort of tea you drink?” Marco asked, standing clueless in front of the cupboard where Roman kept his teabags.

The older brother smiled and stood up. He appreciated Marco’s effort but he couldn’t not laugh at his utter failure in it. He reached inside the cupboard and got himself a bag of the strongest tea he had. He needed it if he really was going to open his heart up to Marco. He wasn’t even sure how much he was willing to reveal. Should he go all in, or should he draw a line somewhere between his concern for Erik’s career and his deepest feelings for him?

He got five minutes of time to think about it. By that time, he was sitting at the table again, with Marco eyeing him from the chair opposite to him and two cups of tea between them. Roman watched the tendrils of steam dance in the light kitchen to buy himself some time, and then he started to talk. He didn’t even know how much he said, he just let the flow of the narrative take him wherever it wanted.

“The worst thing about it is that I had no idea how much I cared about Erik until this happened and he isn’t talking to me anymore. I’d like to salvage the situation somehow, but I doubt there’s a way,” he wrapped it up, sipping the last drop of his tea. Marco had given up the hope to finish his after three gulps.

“Yeah, I see,” Marco drawled. “It is like this. We rarely appreciate the things we should be grateful for until we lose them. And then, that loss is just too much to bear. But here’s the thing: I don’t think your situation is hopeless. If only you–”

“What did you say?” Roman asked, his thoughts clouded by a sudden realization.

“That the situation isn’t hopeless. All you need to do is–” Marco leaned forward, taking up a more confidential tone, obviously glad that he could be of help.

“No, before that,” Roman corrected him.

“That you don’t value what matters until you lose it,” Marco repeated, and then started a step-to-step guide for Roman to fight for his friendship and love.

“Shit! That’s it! I’m an idiot!” Roman cried out in the middle of Marco’s explanation, silencing his brother. “You’re a genius!”

He caught a glimpse of the smirk spreading out on Marco’s face, but he didn’t wait until it reached its final form. He sprang up and rushed out of the kitchen, swearing at himself. He didn’t even get his coat before he left, just stepped into his shoes and started his run down the stairs.

There wasn’t much time, but he was going to use that little to find Erik and explain himself to him.

 

He was searching for a needle in a haystack, but he was determined to find it. His heart was racing and a thousand thoughts whirled in his mind, his state of agitation in complete contrast to the peaceful cemetery he was in.

Wherever he looked, he saw endless rows of tombstones, the monotonous rows broken only by a couple of old oaks casting their shadows on the graves. There was no way he was going to find what he was looking for, and panic crept deeper and deeper into his thoughts. A tight knot sat in his throat, suffocating him, and still, he kept going.

He couldn’t see either end of the cemetery from the avenue he was walking on, his shoes clopping on the cobblestone. Only pure luck could help him out, but after all the misfortune in his life, he could hope for some.

As he neared the end of the avenue, he saw a figure from the corner of his eye standing among the graves. He stopped and looked in that direction, but he only saw a small fir tree. He didn’t care. Maybe it was a sign guiding him to his destination. Of course, it might have easily been nothing in particular, but he tried not to think of that possibility.

He was out of breath by the time he reached the next parallel avenue leading through the cemetery. His ankle hurt after he stumbled on a stone. He crouched down and inspected his foot with great care through the shoe. It didn’t look damaged much, but he would put as little weight on it as possible.

He didn’t need to be that careful. As he stood up, his heart missed a beat.

There he was, Erik, only a few meters away from him, staring at a tombstone, his head hanging low. Roman’s heart almost broke when he saw his friend like that, and this feeling was stronger than the momentary relief he felt upon finding his target. Erik wasn’t alone, and he saw it only when the two other people with him stood up right next to him. They were a couple who had become old together, it was obvious to see.

Roman crept closer, careful to be silent, not to intrude the small group. He could make out their faces from here. The woman, somewhere around her fifties, was crying, and her husband looked at the sky to stop his tears from flowing freely. Erik just stood there, staring at the tombstone at his feet, his face as motionless and expressionless as a statue.

“I can’t believe it’s been that long,” the woman sighed. “I thought that time would heal the wounds, but it doesn’t. It’s still as bad as it was five years ago. Maybe I don’t think of him as often, but I’m not sure.” She wasn’t talking to anyone in particular, still, Roman sensed that she was uttering what the other two were thinking, as well. Her husband pulled her close by her shoulder.

“There’s not a single day when I don’t think of him,” Erik said in a dry voice. Roman almost didn’t recognize it.

“Erik, you need to move on. I know it’s hard and I can’t say that we did it properly, but you can’t live in the past and brood your loss,” she explained. The man nodded vigorously. “It’s not what Max would want.”

“No,” Erik shook his head. He closed his eyes, but he still didn’t shed a tear. “I can’t forgive myself. I won’t.”

“Dear, there’s nothing to forgive,” she smiled at him tenderly and stroked Erik’s face with the back of her fingers. “Every time we see you, you are like this. But that’s not what we wish for you. You are still so young, you deserve happiness. Please, Erik, learn to love again. Have the life you envisioned for yourselves with Max. Just because it wasn’t given to him, it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have it.”

“I know,” Erik said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

Roman took a few steps backwards, feeling guilty about eavesdropping. This conversation wasn’t meant for anyone apart from the three of them. He walked back to the closest avenue and waited until they finished their talk. He had no idea what he was going to tell Erik. As long as he was concerned, this might not have been a good idea at all. They needed to talk, but this could not be the best place or time for it.

He stood there for about ten minutes before the couple said their goodbyes to Erik and walked away. Roman looked at them until they disappeared among the unvarying rows of tombstones, and then, he stepped forward with a deep breath.

Erik spun around, startled. There wasn’t much to read out of his expression. It could have been hurt, offense or anger, Roman couldn’t tell. All he sensed was the tension between them, that unbearable tension that had been eating him for two days now. He tried a shy smile, but Erik didn’t return it. He just turned back to the grave and stared at it again.

Roman closed down the distance between them, reading the name and date engraved in the stone. It was the day exactly five years earlier.

“Erik, I know that you probably don’t want to see me right now, and I understand it. I don’t even expect you to talk to me. But please, could you hear me out?”


	10. Love

“Leave me alone,” Erik said, his eyes still fixed on the grave.

Roman’s legs were already carrying him away. It was a reaction he couldn’t help. His brain stopped him from thinking and decided to protect his shattered heart from further damage, taking him away from the source of the pain. The fact that it happened to be the man who could make that heart beat faster made it all worse. But as he moved, Roman closed his eyes, and there, in his mind, that vengeful face of Elsa Reiter appeared.

He remembered everything she said. The scorn, the mockery, the desire to see him suffer and fail. No, he couldn’t give in. She expected Roman to give up, to keep his feelings a secret just like he had done for a long time already. Just a day or two earlier, her plan would have succeeded. That time though was enough for Roman to realize how he felt about Erik, how much he wanted him, how much he needed him. He wouldn’t leave. He stomped on the soft grass with his unruly foot, making his stance firmer.

“I won’t,” he croaked out and cleared his throat immediately. A dryness sat there, one he wasn’t sure he could cure.

Erik didn’t move. The seconds ticked, Roman’s inner clock sending a danger signal into his body, telling him that he should have left with his respect more or less still intact. Every passing second added to his feeling of being let down. It wasn’t exactly right. Erik hadn’t made any promises to him, the image of a caring and loving friend who one day might return his feelings lived only in Roman’s head. Now was the moment of truth, when that ideal would be confronted with reality.

“We need to talk, Erik, and you know it,” he tried again, but there was still no answer. He chose a different approach. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Erik finally spun around.

Roman half-expected to see tears trickling down on his smooth cheeks, but they weren’t there. A dangerous mixture of emotions whirled in Erik’s eyes, from sorrow through desertedness to anger, but he couldn’t show it in any other way, and something told Roman that it was eating him from the inside. No one was supposed to hold so much tension inside him. One could try, but the pressure was doomed to get too much at one point, and reaching the breaking point would be ugly.

“Sorry that you fucked up? Sorry that you didn’t turn up that one time I needed you more than ever? Sorry that you didn’t do anything to prevent this whole shit?” Erik spat and his accusations echoed in the silent graveyard, making their weight so much worse.

“Sorry that I forgot about Max,” Roman said, mustering all his strength not to break down in tears.

That simple confession took Erik by surprise. He pulled his head back and measured Roman with a sense of wonder. For a moment, just a split second, Roman felt that special bond between them again, but with Erik’s anger taking over his look again, it was gone. A stranger stood in front of him. An impossible puzzle that he had to solve.

“I had no idea why you were so detached last week, and I didn’t realize this day was so close. I should have known. I was a shitty friend.”

Asking Erik to come to his rescue and reassure him that it wasn’t so, he had done his best and he couldn’t be blamed considering what he himself was going through with Mrs. Möller’s double inspection would have been asking too much. The single nod with which Erik acknowledged the apology was enough for now. It gave Roman the encouragement he needed.

“And yes, I’m sorry about what happened with Elsa. Not about what I did, though,” he added and he took a deep breath, focusing all his senses on Erik. He needed to react quickly in case Erik decided to award his honesty with a blow. It didn’t come to that, and Erik remained standing like a statue. “You are right, I could have prevented all this had I reported Elsa. But at that time, I had no clue. I don’t think Elsa knew what she was going to do about it, either. Believe me, had I known, I wouldn’t have hesitated for a single moment. But looking back, I think I did the right thing, nonetheless. I didn’t think it was more than a stupid teenage crush.”

“So everything’s fine now?” Erik snorted.

“No, nothing is fine,” Roman shook his head. “This is crazy and honestly, I have no idea what we can do about it – if there’s anything to do about it. But it makes no sense to blame myself when I couldn’t have known better. So please, stop doing the same to yourself. It’s not your fault, Erik. You didn’t know how Elsa felt. And it’s not entirely about you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Erik snapped, fighting vehemently about this new information that could change how he saw this whole situation. Roman considered backing down and not telling Erik after all. In this labile state, he couldn’t predict how Erik would react. But there was no turning back. He had to choose between complete honesty and losing Erik. It wasn’t a hard decision.

“I think this is a vengeance on me,” Roman voiced his suspicion. A menacing spark flashed in Erik’s eyes, but for the time being, he let him talk. “She has a crush on you, there’s no doubt. As I see it, she didn’t know what to do when I found out about it. We talked this morning, and it wasn’t a pleasant talk, I can tell you that. She told me that her classmates teased her, that they wanted to guess what she was drawing that had upset me that much. And all that time, she couldn’t answer them, because the truth was even worse for her than any guessing.”

He couldn’t quite believe it, but as he spoke those words and depicted Elsa’s situation, he felt a tinge of sympathy with her. It wasn’t much and far from enough to acquit her, but it was there and Roman started to understand how one step led to another. His analytical mind found it oddly soothing. He risked a wary glance at Erik. The brunette was still listening to him, and a similar understanding for Elsa’s actions hid in his eyes, but Roman could have only imagined it.

“But why me, then? If she wants to get a revenge on you, why would she drag _me_ into this?”

Roman sighed. He had expected this question, the hardest one of all, and he needed to answer it in some way. On his drive to the cemetery, he had been thinking about the how, but he didn’t come up with anything. None of his ideas would work. They would lead him into a tangled explanation that couldn’t mirror his true feelings for Erik. And the most obvious and simplest answer, that four words _because I love you_ sounded too empty.

Erik awaited an answer. He demanded it. He looked lost, full of questions, searching for someone who could clear his confusion. God, how much Roman wished he could be the one. But he was as full of questions as Erik himself, even if those were different ones.

“Do you remember when you asked me in the _Funhouse_ if there was anything else I was keeping away from you?”

“What?” Erik frowned.

“There is,” Roman gulped. “There is something I haven’t told you, because I feared what you would say to it. I feared that you would laugh at me, and before I knew it, I was entangled in so many lies that I was sure you would turn your back on me.”

“What are you talking about, Roman?” Now there was real concern in his voice.

“My car,” he said and it sounded too ridiculous for Erik not to look completely taken aback. Roman was sure that regardless of the outcome of this talk, he would be able to laugh at his own lameness some time, but then and there, it was too serious and tense for smiling. “My car has been working for nearly three weeks now. They repaired in two days after I brought it to the service.”

“I don’t understand…”

“I didn’t tell you about it because I wanted you to take me to school every morning. I enjoyed those rides. They meant a lot to me, more than you can imagine. Then, when Julian cropped up, I lost my mind. I felt those drives threatened.”

“Could you please stop talking in riddles and start making some sense?” Erik burst out, but a faint amusement in his voice told Roman that he was starting to understand what he was aiming at.

“I wanted to have those drives because I care deeply about you, Erik. More than a friend does,” Roman stuttered and his heart beat faster and faster after every uttered word. He was sure that five more seconds of drawing out the time would push him towards a heart rate he couldn’t possibly survive, so he decided to stop all the meandering. “I think I’m in love with you.”

The world stood still, and only his heavy heartbeat reminded Roman of the passing of time. What was he thinking? He couldn’t just say something like this this blatantly out loud. Blood flooded his face and he quickly looked at his feet, not wanting to see the ensuing reaction from Erik. He had seen enough in the first moment after his unsolicited declaration.

Erik was shocked to say the least. His pupils went wide, various muscles on his cheeks started to twitch and he even forgot to close his mouth after his surprise. Roman didn’t see him now, but he could still feel Erik’s stare on himself. This hadn’t gone according to his expectations. No matter how much his analytical mind had tried, he couldn’t switch off his romantic side, and he hoped that Erik would give in with a lighthearted, almost relieved sigh and then take him into his arms, warming him in a tight embrace. It didn’t happen and each passing second reconfirmed Roman’s suspicion that it wouldn’t even happen. They were going down.

“I– I– I–” Erik tried to say something multiple times, but his voice quavered on every single try. Roman closed his eyes. He really could have remained silent. It would have been better than this indirect refusal. “Roman, that’s–” his next attempt ended in a frustrated sigh. “I knew it.”

“What?” Roman snapped his head so quickly that a joint cracked. He looked for any sign of mockery on Erik’s face, but there was none.

“I didn’t particularly _knew_ it,” Erik corrected himself and speaking felt natural to him again, “but I had a suspicion. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

The whole world turned black around Roman. He felt dizzy and avoided a collapse only by holding onto a tombstone. No one could criticize the strength of his legs, he went jogging regularly to keep them in good shape, but no physical exercise could prepare him for this situation.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think you are a nice guy. You’re funny, friendly and so thoughtful. No one else really noticed that something wasn’t right with me last week. You are an amazing friend, I couldn’t wish a better one for myself. To be honest, those morning drives meant a lot to me, too. They somehow lit up my day, no matter if I woke up feeling down. I have nothing against you, but I don’t think it would work out between us just now. I appreciate your honesty and I thank you for it, but I don’t want to pull you into all the scandal around me at school.”

“What?” Roman yelled. He didn’t mean to be so impulsive, but he couldn’t leave Erik’s words without a comment. Had Erik even listened to what he had said? “Erik, you don’t have to pull me into your troubles, I’m already in them, and in the middle of them at that. I will fight for you, and if I have to admit my feelings for you to the whole world, than be it, I will.”

Roman would never forget the fright in Erik’s eyes after that comment. His whole face turned pale and he looked around as if to check if no one had heard the madness Roman had dared to utter. They were so done. Erik might have tried to wrap things into a nicer packaging, but Roman knew the truth: he couldn’t care less about him. Erik saw him as his friend and that was it. It was a crude waking up, but at least the fog clouding his eyes and comprehension would now vanish.

“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, Roman. This is my battle and I will fight it.”

“Then you will lose,” Roman croaked out. He didn’t want to sound rude, but he wanted to return Erik’s favor; he needed to know the truth and see reality as it was. “Without allies and supporters, your word will go against Elsa’s and that’ll be it. She’s a scheming little b– bastard, and she’ll find a way to convince Möller that you should go. And you know what the worst about that is? That she’ll succeed in making my life a ruin. I will only watch as you leave and I will rue that I didn’t step up for you for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, so this is all about you, isn’t it?” Erik snorted. “You don’t even care what _I_ want, right? You want to be the glorious prince charming who rides in at a moment of need to save the day and get the princess? Am I just a trophy to you?”

“You know it’s not true, Erik!” Roman said with some anger. “I’m in love with you, can’t you understand that? I don’t want to help you because I want to get something out of it. I want to help you because I can’t imagine doing anything else. If you sentence me to the role of an observer and ask me to do nothing while you slowly but surely lose your job, that’s the worst possible punishment I can imagine.”

“But that’s what you’ll do,” Erik said. “Please, Roman, I don’t want you to get into this. I’m sorry I turned you down, but I want the best for you, believe me. I hope that one day, you’ll see it.” He added with sorrow in his voice.

Roman wanted to object again and speak some sense into Erik, but it would be pointless. Erik had already made up his mind, he had his idea about his future, and Roman obviously wasn’t a part of it. A few seconds later, Roman didn’t even have a chance anymore. Erik took a final glance at his late boyfriend’s grave, then looked at Roman – one long and regretful look – and left. Just like that, he walked away and it felt like he was walking out of Roman’s life, too.

Clouds covered the sun and Roman didn’t think they would ever move.


	11. A Carefully Devised Plan

Julian never stressed about his classes. He didn’t even consider himself a real teacher. Surely, there was no big honor in teaching Art, and truth to be told, he had never thought about it as his life goal. He had always wanted to create, to move people, to change the world, but crude reality trimmed those visions one after another. It was his mother who had pushed him into university, to get a decent profession and make a living out of it. Looking at his artistic career, especially considering how it hadn’t worked out so far, Julian was more than grateful to her for it, even though the university years were the worst of his life.

He didn’t enjoy teaching, mostly because there were no clear guidelines to which he was supposed to stick. All the other teachers had a curriculum and straightforward methods of measuring their students’ growth in their respective fields. But what was left to him? How was he supposed to grade students? One were gifted with a keener sense for the arts, others were not, and there was no changing that. In the end, he opted out of all groundbreaking plans and stuck to being a cool teacher for his students. He had only one goal when he walked into a classroom, and that to show them the beauty of the arts and teach them to appreciate it with a critical pair of eyes.

And then again, there were those kids with whom he loved to work. The talented ones, who never got tired of doodling, drawing and painting. Julian saw a past version of himself in them, one who was still full of desire and motivation, one who thought he would shake the world with his unique way of seeing things and people would line up to see his work. He had set out on a professional career with this conviction, and soon found out that there were none who were willing to reach into the deepest parts of their pockets just to have a Weigl painting at home. There weren’t even many who were interested in seeing them, and Julian had to learn the hard way that making art was a lonely and irksome job. A job, just like any other. Still, he believed in an inherent drive in humankind to strive for the nice, and he had to watch out not to show his disappointment in reality to his students, from whom Elsa Reiter was by far the most talented one.

Elsa Reiter, whose sense of art didn’t pair with ethic or empathy, and those were just other things Julian couldn’t teach her. He didn’t even want to; he didn’t want to have anything with her anymore. Or rather, there was one thing he wanted, and that’s why he had been adamant that Elsa came to their little Arts club on this Tuesday afternoon, too. He was surprised to see that she actually did so, and even better was that the other students were too busy with the preparations for the stupid school ball Mrs. Möller wanted to organize at all costs.

It was just the two of them in the studio packed with easels. She sat down to the one she usually used. It stood in the best possible position, lighted by both the sunshine pouring in through the windows and also the lamps casting their warm light on the room. He wasn’t sure it was a deliberate decision on her part, it most likely was just another manifestation of that mysterious talent artists had and made them different from everyone else. Everything in their lives had to support their art, or at least they thought so. Julian’s opinion had changed a lot over the years, but it was hard to admit that art was the tool and a better life the goal, not the other way around.

“Thank you for joining me, Elsa. I suppose I would have felt lonely without you turning up,” Julian smiled at her.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do anything useful today, Mr. Weigl. With this turmoil in my life, I–”

“Don’t worry, I took that into account when I sent you the message,” Julian reassured her. He couldn’t listen to her victimizing herself. She had caused that turmoil in the first place. “In fact, I think spending some time focusing on drawing might be helpful to you. Take your mind off all the troubles. Or would you like to talk about them?”

“Not really,” she shook her head. It seemed all too detached for Julian’s liking. One downside to his artistic thinking was that he constantly analyzed other’s actions and looked for the emotion behind them. He saw not a single one behind Elsa’s, it was all calculated.

“I thought so. I’m sure you have enough of it, so why don’t we turn to more jolly things? Making art on the bad days is a huge step in becoming a professional anyways, and I’ve just arrived at what I wanted to discuss with you above all.”

He added special emphasis to his words and waited eagerly for that unmistakable reaction from Elsa that would tell him that she had walked right into his trap. This whole meeting was a simple bait and Julian hoped with all his heart that Elsa would find it delicious.

She did. Her eyes lit up at Julian’s not too subtle suggestion and she looked at him hungry for more information. “Professional, Mr. Weigl?”

“Yes, quite right, Ms. Reiter,” Julian drawled. He felt awful for feeding Elsa’s ego, but it was the surest way to get her trust and put her suspicion at rest. “It’s just the two of us here, so let’s be honest: you are far ahead of everyone else at this school in your drawing skills. I’d be as bold as to say you are a natural talent.” Every word of his was another drop into the glass of Elsa’s bloatedness, and he was determined to let it overflow. “I think you should consider making art your full-time focus. You certainly have the foundations, and with a lot of work, you can get to a level you might not even believe possible at this point in time.”

“Really?” she asked. She wanted to look balanced and skeptic, but Julian couldn’t miss the excitement in her voice. He had her in his grip now, he only needed to make sure she stayed there.

“Absolutely. I might not be the best to evaluate it, being a failure of a painter myself, but I’m pretty convinced.”

“Oh, please, Mr. Weigl! I’ve seen your paintings, you can’t mean it seriously with calling yourself a failure,” she flattered him. It didn’t touch Julian. He accepted the praise with a customary nod and a smile, but didn’t believe one word of it. The basis for making art was a healthy dose of self-criticism, and he had that – a boon and a curse at the same time.

“Thank you, Elsa, but let’s talk about you. A few years back, well actually more years than I’d like to admit, I was in your shoes. I had a knowledgeable Arts teacher who encouraged me to improve myself in painting. Making art is a craft, and sure, you need talent, but it’s wasted if you aren’t ready to learn from the right people. But I’m digressing… where was I? Oh, yes, my teacher! She told me about this program for young artists, founded by a millionaire who I suppose has more money than he can spend. Anyways, the point is that he is willing to finance aspiring artists to get better. I’ve sent him a few paintings of mine just after I left high school, and while I didn’t get a positive answer, we remained acquaintances ever since. I wouldn’t say we are friends but we sure discuss art now and then. My point is that I could show some of your works to him if you’d like.”

“Wow, that would be wonderful, Mr. Weigl!” she cried out with real enthusiasm now and Julian had to muster all his strength to stop himself from grinning.

Lying had come disquietingly easy to him, and he almost felt sorry for Elsa. There was no millionaire and there certainly wasn’t a program he could push her into. There was only an unwavering desire from his part to get a look at Elsa’s sketchbook and see if he could get a proof for the existence of the drawing Roman had talked about.

“I don’t even know which drawings I should send him,” Julian hadn’t even realized that Elsa was still talking, in the middle of a rant about her bright future. He only noticed the begging look in her eyes.

“Maybe I could help you?” he suggested. He knew what sort of a child Elsa was. Her father was a self-made man, Julian was sure he had imprinted his views in Elsa, too. She would never ask for help for the same reason she was willing to ruin Erik’s life just to get her revenge. Needing help and considering others were both signs of weakness in her and Mr. Reiter’s world.

“That would be so kind of you,” Elsa smirked satisfied. Julian had her in his grip, that much was clear. But he still couldn’t relax. Not this close to success. She had an effective radar for any suspicious dealing, Julian had to be careful not to awake it.

Elsa’s sketchbook was simple black, not the kind of thing that drew attention. Julian understood her decision for it. Even without spicy drawings of one’s crush (irrespective if said crush was one’s teacher or not), it was rare that an artist would have liked anyone else to notice her most secret drawings. Not because she would be ashamed of what was inside, but because of what it showed. These were the most rudimentary sketches, only notes, vague resemblances of what was inside an artist’s mind. It was the creative spirit at its most vulnerable, and it needed protection. With so many things, the least remarkable disguise was the most effective, why would it be any different in this case?

Elsa reached inside her bag and brought forward the sketchbook. Julian could barely hide his excitement. It was strange to think that that simple volume held the possible escape for Erik. Julian kept his eyes glued to it, fearing that Elsa would change her mind and put it back into her bag any moment. It didn’t come to that. She offered the sketchbook to Julian with a wide grin, and he took it with a similar expression.

The moment he got his hands on the thick black cover felt special. It finally was in his hands, and he wouldn’t let go of it. In all honesty, there was nothing that he wanted more than to hold it firmly against his chest and run away with it. But he couldn’t do it. Not yet. He might have convinced Elsa to do this much, but to be successful in his plan, he needed her to let him keep the sketchbook for a day. It was too much to ask for from most artists, and Elsa wouldn’t be an exception.

“These are truly remarkable,” Julian eyed the sketches one after the other, not paying much attention to the lines on the paper.

Still, his brain so wired to look for beautiful art recognized the high quality of those drawings. Most of them depicted an everyday situation, a student sitting on a bench lost in gazing at his mobile phone, a member of the school football team swinging his leg to shoot the ball, cars lined up in the nearby parking lot, all scenes that didn’t require much talent. But there were sketches where Elsa’s imagination showed and they would have overwhelmed Julian if he weren’t so concentrated on his quest. Even though he hadn’t meant saying it, a professional career wasn’t completely out of question for Elsa. If she would get any support, that was.

“Quite frankly, I’m not so sure if I can be of help here,” Julian smiled. “These are all wonderful and enchanting. This here for example,” he pointed at a sketch he could have called above average only with a lot of kindliness.

“You flatter me, Mr. Weigl,” Elsa blushed. “To be honest, I’m not sure these are up to the standards I’d expect from myself. It might be better if I started working on something entirely different. Something new, keeping in mind what is at stake.”

“It’s up to you,” Julian shrugged, closing the sketchbook casually.

He wanted to tell Elsa off for her last comment, lecturing her on how unprofessional she was, how art was supposed to be done for its own sake and not to get fame and recognition, but this was not the time to take offense. He had to play everything with extra care.

“I suppose there is good material in here, as well,” he offered the sketchbook to Elsa. “The most important thing is that your talent is visible and your unique way of looking at things. That much is clear even in the most basic sketches, but if you’d like to start something new, that’s fine, too.”

What was he saying? Every part of his brain screamed no. He was convincing himself that he made a mistake and he should have just taken the sketchbook, but deep in his thoughts, he knew he was still in role. He couldn’t arouse Elsa’s suspicion.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you out, but I really need more time to look through them and analyze them, record my reaction and emotions.”

“Why don’t you take it for a day, then?” Elsa suggested, her hands already on the sketchbook, but her grip eased. Julian’s heart missed a beat, but he still held it together.

“Nah, you might want to use some of the sketches in here.” He was playing with fire now, and he couldn’t take it much longer.

For a moment, hesitation lit up in Elsa’s eyes and Julian almost freaked out, fearing that he had overstrained the string, but there was nothing more in Elsa’s look than thinking about the consequences of an afternoon without her most precious treasure. Julian could relate to it.

“One day won’t make much of a difference. And at least I can spend some time thinking about what I want to draw instead of rushing to it immediately. It is my biggest weakness. So many ideas whirl in my head and I set to realize all of them, but never quite finish them, get them completely right. You know, there’s that final line that’s missing but only it could put the drawing right and bring balance to everything.”

“I know that very well,” Julian forced himself to laugh and prayed that she wouldn’t notice the strained nature of his reaction.

“I’m telling you, Mr. Weigl, take the book with you, I’ll get by without it for a day or even two.” _You just look at my works properly and help me get that grant_ , her eyes were saying.

“Alright,” Julian said and he calmed down only once Elsa let go of the sketchbook again.


	12. Talks

The knock on the driver-side window almost scared Erik out of his mind. His first instinct was to reach for the ignition, but as he turned the key, his leg slipped off the pedal and his desperate attempt for leaving died in a screeching effort from the motor. He acknowledged his loss and eyed at the intruder.

For a second, he felt like melting into the seat. It was him, the only person he didn't want to be found by and yet he had come here hoping that he would see him without being spotted. Then, as he watched the man now leaning against his car longer, he calmed down. It wasn't Roman, only Marco. Yet, based on the look in Marco’s eyes, it wasn't a much better option.

Erik took a deep breath, held it in for a moment and then pulled down the window as he exhaled.

“What a coincidence that I find you here, Erik!” Marco greeted, but his tone made it clear that he knew very well that it was far from being a coincidence. With Erik spending most of his mornings in front of Roman’s house, staring wistfully at his window, it wasn't hard to catch him.

“What do you want, Marco?” Erik grunted. It was bad enough that he had been found, he needed to scurry away as quickly as he could and hope that Marco would keep his mouth shut. He didn't know the other one well enough, but the few times they had met before, Marco didn’t excel at being silent.

“I just wanted to ask if I could help you,” Marco put his hands in the air. “You know, there’s not a huge chance of talking to Roman when you keep sitting in your car.”

“Who told you I wanted to talk to him?” He tried to sound as if the suggestion itself sounded too ridiculous.

“Don’t you? You’re right, why else would you wait hours just to drive away minutes before he'd arrive?”

Erik felt as if Marco had poured a bucket of icy water on him. Stating it this way made him so pathetic. What was he thinking? He didn't even feel anything for Ro– he stopped himself from finishing the thought. Of course he felt something. He felt a lot, he just didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to live into this possibility.

“So do you want to come up and wait for him?” Marco continued.

“No,” Erik shook his head as a wave of panic surged through him. “And I’d appreciate if you didn't tell him about me.”

“Okay,” Marco shrugged. He made a step as if he was about to leave, then made another note. “But I guess he senses it. Once he gets home, he keeps staring at the place where you parked. For hours. He does it the next morning, too. If you weren't behaving like two stupid kids, I'd go as far as calling what you do romantic, but...” he didn't finish the sentence.

Erik’s heart started to beat faster. If what Marco told him was true, and why would he lie about such a thing, that changed everything. Unfortunately, not for the better. He fell more in love with Roman, but at the same time, he steeled his heart and repeated to himself that they couldn't be each other’s. Not because of them being colleagues or because he thought it was wrong. He carried wounds that hadn’t healed, would never heal and it would be unfair to expect Roman to deal with them.

“Does he really do it?” Erik stammered when his heart won over his brain. The gesture was too sweet to ignore.

“Yeah, drives me mad,” Marco nodded. “Of course, I cannot be sure, but I guess he cries sometimes in the evenings, or at least is close to it.”

Erik froze. The image of Roman crying because of him appeared before his eyes and it made him feel awful. How could he do it to Roman? And why was Marco telling him all this? He felt guilty enough for what he had told Roman in the cemetery. Hearing this, he wished the ground would swallow him up. All his fears had been reinforced. He couldn’t get together with Roman, not without hurting him. It was stupid, because apparently, he was already hurting him, but it was the lesser evil.

He wanted to drive home, curl up in a ball and curse at himself. He wanted to get out of this city, to burn the bridges behind him and start anew, and the moment he thought about it he knew it wouldn’t work. No matter where he’d go, he’d carry his past with him like a heavy sack on his shoulders. He had his inner demons and he knew he had to face them, but he was too weak and cowardly to do it.

“Look, Erik,” Marco stepped to his car again. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but it’s not right. I see what Roman is going through and Yann has told me that you weren\t that much better at it, either. Looking at you, it was a huge understatement. You two need to talk, and I guess you know that, right?”

Hearing his roommate’s name, anger flooded Erik’s mind. Of course, he should have seen it right away! There was a reason Marco, Yann’s newest recruit found him today and told him all the right things to make him think about himself. How could he be such a fool and walk into the trap so easily? His nostrils widened and before he could grab Marco in an attempt to tell him off, the other one jumped away, noticing the danger.

“Look, Mr. I’m-so-smart-and-a-caring-brother! I don’t know what you and Yann think of yourselves, but you have no reason to get involved in others’ lives. So stop mingling with us and be so nice and tell Yann to stop it, too.”

“Why don’t you tell him that?” Marco hit back, from a safe distance. “Is it because you want to avoid any conflicts naturally? Is that why you wouldn’t talk to Roman? It’s your choice of course. To be honest, I don’t really care what you do with your life. But excuse me, I’ll have a say in what you do to my brother! I don’t want to see him suffer, because he is an amazing guy who deserves much better. Are you aware that ever since that thing at school happened, he’s been thinking about how he could help you? I’m sure he’s thinking hard even right now, trying to save your ass, what you obviously don’t want to do. But pretend that you don’t care as much as you want, I know it’s not true. Because you are here, Erik, day after day, and that shows me how much you care. Just stop acting to yourself and admit that you do care. Would it be so horrible?”

Marco didn’t wait for an answer, he just rushed away and Erik wasn’t sure he could give him an answer. He had gotten enough questions to make him busy for the rest of the day. He felt horrible again, but for a different reason. Marco was right, he couldn’t do this much longer, and he knew it for some time already. He hoped that someone pointing it out for him would help, but he only felt helplessness, a paralyzing feeling creep up his back and sitting down on his shoulders.

It whispered one single sentence into his ears: “he deserves much better”. Marco was so right. Roman deserved much better, and Erik agreed with it completely, even though he was pretty sure Marco meant it in a different way than he understood. Strangely enough, he thought Roman would understand if he told him the reason why he had refused him. Why didn’t he find the strength to do it, then?

He sent a wary glance towards Roman’s window. He could almost see Marco standing there, waiting for him to get out of his car and wait for Roman to come home. His legs moved, and he reached out to open the door, but as if he changed his mind mid-move, he wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel in the end and started the car.

An awful feeling overcame him as he checked the rear-view mirror to make sure he could drive out of the parking lot. He was running away from his problems, something he had never intended to do. But then again, he had never expected his problems to be so overwhelming.

As the wheels started to roll and the car gained speed, it felt much more than simply driving away. His jaws clenched and a pain sat in his chest. He wanted to cry and he could almost feel his eyes tear up, but at the same time he knew it was only his imagination playing with him. He wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t. Not in five years.

 

* * *

 

Roman stood in his window and stared at the parking lot in front of his house. He had no idea what odd force drew him to that window day after day or why he found so much pleasure at observing an asphalt surface where rarely anything happened. He must have been going mad, because there was no reason for him to just stand there, and yet, it was fulfilling.

Marco would usually stop by and talk to him, bothering him with the slightest possible matters just to try to get him out of this strange and probably also harmful pastime. But this afternoon, Roman was alone, his brother having another shift at the Funhouse. Marco enjoyed his new job and it made Roman happy and sad at the same time. Happy, because he wasn’t a cold-hearted brother; Marco’s success meant a lot to him, too. But a satisfied Marco also meant a Marco that would stay in his flat for longer than promised.

Not that Roman should have had any problems with that. He had lost all chance of ever bringing someone else into his home and he had plenty of time to brood over it in the afternoons. He was great at it. He usually started with reliving his talk with Erik in the cemetery, then he went over that joyful list of happy scenes he had imagined for the two of them, and closed his thinking sessions with the promise of a lonely and definitely unhappy life ahead of him. If he was especially motivated, he even calculated the probability of how long he would taste that sort of life.

He could get lost in his thoughts completely, and it happened this afternoon, too. By the time he noticed the doorbell ringing, his visitor was pressing it frantically, angry buzzes breaking the silence of Roman’s flat. He stumbled into the hall and opened the door without checking who it was. It was probably a mistake; he had plenty of older neighbors and their visitors often missed the right nametags on the intercom.

But the elevator definitely stopped on his floor and if there was something even less probable than someone visiting Roman, it was someone visiting his next-door neighbor. He couldn’t recall a single time the young waitress living across the hall had ever received any visits.

He opened his door ajar before the mysterious visitor could knock on it. It turned out to be Julian, smiling relentlessly and an unending optimism burning in his eyes. Roman wouldn’t have thought that anything could bring an end to his half-depression, but Julian’s arrival actually helped. The other one was definitely satisfied and that could mean only one thing.

“Did you get it?” Roman asked, afraid of the answer. What if Julian didn’t succeed after all? They didn’t have any other chance apart from his plan.

“Elsa Reiter's sketchbook, at your disposal,” Julian brought forward the black volume from behind his back.

Roman tore it out of his hands and leafed through it. He didn’t even look at the drawings, the one he was looking for would stand out and there was no way he would miss it.

It wasn’t there.

He leafed through the sketchbook once more, but again to no avail.

A third try didn’t help, either. He slammed the book shut and was about to throw it away when he remembered that he couldn’t damage it. His heart beat fast and his knuckles turned white but he managed to control himself. More or less.

“Shit! It didn’t work! It’s not in here!” he opened the sketchbook in a desperate attempt and pointed at the remainder of the page where the drawing of Erik had been. Right at the binding, pieces of a page could still be seen.

“Look again,” Julian urged him on.

“Why should I look again? It’s not fucking in there!” Roman shook his head.

“Don’t look for the drawing,” Julian explained with a strange patience. “Look at the sketchbook.”

Roman didn’t expect that explanation and after he got over his initial bafflement, he listed through the sketchbook again. He took in the sight of the drawings, some of them quite brilliant, he had to admit, but he didn’t find anything that could explain Julian’s satisfaction.

“I still don’t get it...” Roman said, but just as he uttered it, it dawned on him. “Wait!” He cried out, although Julian showed no sign that he was about to go anywhere. “The pages... she draws only on every second page.”

“Just as an artist would,” Julian nodded, apparently pleased that Roman was getting it.

The truth was that he wasn’t getting it at all. This seemed to him nothing more than a strange habit. Why would it be important to them? He definitely didn’t see a way they could use it to their advance except if they wanted to frame Elsa as a cruel destroyer of environment who didn’t consider the damage done to rainforests.

“Okay, I’m lost. Could you tell me why this is such a great thing?”

“You’re the physicist, use your brain a little bit,” Julian smirked, but when he saw that Roman wasn’t in the mood for any games, he was quick with the answer. “The reason many artists leave a page blank between two drawings is that they press their pencils really hard onto the paper. So much that a trace of lines gets onto the next page as well.”

The explanation was so simple and yet, it had evaded Roman completely. He eyed the sketchbook in his hands in disbelief, looking for those invisible signs of the fateful drawing. He didn’t see anything more than a blank paper, there was no way they could find anything on it. Still, Julian was so sure and they really needed that little bit of luck.

They walked into the living room, Roman lay the book on the table and Julian brought forward a black crayon. He put it on the paper and started to shade the paper. He was careful not to press down on it too hard and indeed, in the grayness of the crayon’s path, white lines appeared.

At first, Julian found only three lines, and they didn’t give much away, but Roman recognized them immediately. The image had burnt into his mind and as Julian kept moving the crayon, a new emotion washed over him.

They got Elsa.


	13. He's Innocent

The next morning, Roman practically burst into Mrs. Möller’s office. He wanted to shove the drawing under her nose with a conceited smirk, watch as she realizes her mistake and comes to the uncomfortable conclusion that she’ll have to do the opposite of what the school’s wealthy patron would like. It would go against everything she ever represented and Roman would give everything to witness it.

But reality was different. Julian wouldn’t let him take control, he envisioned a more careful but calculated set of steps. Roman heard him out and had to admit that his plan made sense. It would work, even though it wouldn’t lead to a half so satisfying burndown on Elsa’s part. Maybe it was for the better. Roman had no idea where Erik stood and how he wanted to handle the situation, they still hadn’t talked since that time in the cemetery, but he suspected that his friend wanted to keep things quiet just in case.

The ball the headmistress had announced just a day after Elsa’s accusations started was effective in silencing the attention paid to Erik’s possible unsuitability as a teacher, but it still was a talking point now and then. Roman wanted it to end. He didn’t think Erik and he would have a happy ending, but he didn’t care about it that much.

Elsa was right. Seeing Erik suffer – or rather knowing that he was suffering – hurt him immensely. With telling him that he was to blame, Elsa had successfully planted a few seeds of self-disdain in his mind. But there was one thing Elsa couldn’t have predicted: Roman was going to fight for Erik, even at the cost of his own career. He saw his chances optimistic, it wasn’t probable that he was going to get fired just because he was a homosexual. An affair with a colleague was trickier business, but Erik had taken care of it with his refusal, too.

Not that it weakened Roman’s desire to fight. As they stood in front of Möller’s office, he kept checking his watch impatiently, drummed on the wall and let out a few grunts of frustration.

“Could you please stop that?” Julian sighed.

“No. Not until this is over,” Roman shook his head then checked his watch again. “Where the hell is Erik? Are you sure he is going to get here?”

“I assume he’d like to be here when his job is saved,” Julian smiled.

It was half-honest and still warm, but felt so false compared to Julian’s usual grins. He wasn’t so sure about saving Erik’s career, and Roman got it. Since they didn’t talk, he couldn’t know how much Erik talked with Mrs. Möller or what they had agreed on, but something told him that it wasn’t much. The kind of person he saw in the Funhouse and later in the cemetery didn’t resemble the Erik he knew much. It was a broken man, accepting his fate, and awaiting verdict.

“You wanted to talk to me, gentlemen?” Mrs. Möller opened her door so suddenly that Roman almost jumped in his place in surprise.

“Yes, if that would be possible,” Julian said with an awe-inspiring amount of calmness and certainty. “We have something that might contradict Ms. Reiter’s story.”

“I see,” she sighed with exasperation. She looked like she had had enough of this newest crisis and wanted to be done with it one way or another. Roman wanted to hit her for it. How she could be so indifferent to a teacher’s fate was beyond his understanding. “Come in, then.”

She left the door open for them. Roman wanted to push inside right away, but Julian stepped into his way. He sent him a threatening glance, as if saying leave this to me, and then entered first. Roman accepted his role with a little disappointment. Erik was half-right in the cemetery; Roman wouldn’t have minded if he had come out of this all as prince charming saving his love.

“What do you have for me?”

“Actually, I think it might be better if we had both affected sides here. I’m quite sure we can put an end to all questions today,” Julian utilized his charm and he was so convincing that Roman was almost sure it would work even on such a cold-hearted being as Mrs. Möller. He should have known better.

“Let _me_ judge that,” she smiled. In this scenario, it felt more menacing than reassuring.

“Alright,” Julian shrugged, as if it was completely unimportant to him.

Roman knew it wasn’t. They had counted on a direct confrontation, with Elsa and Mrs. Möller being faced with the drawing’s proof at the same time. They feared that if given time, the headmistress would find a way to explain it all and keep Elsa among the school’s students.

“As Roman, I mean Mr. Bürki must have told you, he had a suspicion that Elsa had feelings for Mr. Durm and she acted upon refusal when she accused him. The only proof of this theory was a drawing which Elsa could have destroyed easily. It turns out that she didn’t destroy it completely. She meant to, but she didn’t think of every possibility.

“Yesterday, I met with Ms. Reiter in the school and mentioned her a program for talented young artists. She was excited at the possibility and asked me to have a look at her sketches to help her select a few that she could submit. I sat down to do that yesterday evening, and something curious caught my eye. You might know that many times, artists leave a page blank between to sketches to prevent overlays from the previous sketch to appear on the current one. I was looking for those overlays, too. Children of Elsa’s age might evaluate what is good or bad unsuccessfully, simply because they might be too embarrassed of what they do. They still want to meet others’ expectations and it might damage their artistic integrity. Anyways, I tried to have a look at a very specific overlay because what I could make out with the naked eye was interesting enough. She had some impressive lines there and I knew they were part of a perfect body portrayal. So I did my best at making the drawing visible again. Here’s the result,” he brought forward the sketchbook and put it on the headmistress’s desk.

Mrs. Möller eyed it with skepticism. “And you are sure this got to you completely legally? I mean, you didn’t try to deliberately mislead her to try and prove the truth of Mr. Bürki’s theory?” she raised an eyebrow.

Roman gulped. They were so done. The cover-up story Julian had come up with was so believable, Roman had to admit it, and yet, she saw through it the first moment.

“No,” Julian said. He lied so easily that it freaked Roman out. Even he didn’t dare lie face to face with Mrs. Möller and he didn’t particularly belong to the most obedient members of the faculty. “I mean, Elsa didn’t explicitly allowed me to shade her pages, but she didn’t forbid it, either.”

“I see,” the headmistress said and opened the sketchbook.

Just to make his cover story more believable, Julian had done the same to more blank pages and it seemed to ease Mrs. Möller’s mind.

Roman couldn’t wait for the moment when she would reach that particular page. When she did, her reaction went further than all his expectations.

He thought she would evaluate the new developments with a cool head. Instead, she lost her breath and groped for the telephone blindly. When she finally found it, she brought it to her ears without taking her eyes off the page.

“Vera,” she called her secretary, “please let Mr. Reiter know that he should come in and bring Elsa with him. It’s important and he shouldn’t object.”

 

Erik had no idea why Julian had told him to come to school today. At first he guessed it was because Mrs. Möller wanted to tell him something but then why hadn’t she called him? It was strange but all his questions were answered when he entered the headmistress’s office. He came through the secretary’s office; he didn’t want to meet his colleagues who might well become former colleagues in a few days.

He had everything planned, a way to keep his dignity and avoid ridiculous and hurtful inquiries into his life. Opposed to Roman, he had no illusions about what a formal investigation would look like. His innocence might be proved, but it still wouldn’t be good news for him. He was already stigmatized and he couldn’t get rid of that as simply as Roman wanted to describe it. His solution on the other hand, would more realistically keep him above the water.

His chances were gone the moment he stepped into Mrs. Möller’s office. He didn’t have to ask anyone what was going on: Julian’s and Roman’s presence could mean only one thing, that his friends stood up for him and wanted to save him. He didn’t want to be saved, not the way they envisioned. He couldn’t be saved that way.

“Mr. Durm, thank you for being here,” Mrs. Möller greeted him. There was nothing personal in it, she kept her official tone just like every single time. “I understand that this is a delicate topic for you and after our conversation, it is clear to me what you would like, but some new evidence surfaced and its severity prevents me from ignoring it. I also have to warn you that Ms. Reiter will soon join us along with her father. I’d be glad if you could be here, but I understand if you want to avoid a confrontation.”

“No, it’s fine,” Erik muttered and pulled into a corner. Roman and Julian were both watching him, maybe awaiting an explanation about his talk with the headmistress, but he wasn’t going to tell anything. He started counting the seconds until this would be over.

The Reiters arrived ten minutes later and their confidence froze on their faces when they did so. Erik had no idea how much Mr. Reiter knew about the truth in Elsa’s accusations, but he sensed her reaction. Elsa looked like a cornered animal and if Erik didn’t know her better, he would have believed that he could get away after all. But she was different. Anyone who could come up with vicious lies just to revenge a grievance should not be written off. After all, sometimes the cornered animals bit the most vehemently.

“Thank you for joining us, Mr. Reiter! Ms. Reiter,” Mrs. Möller nodded. “I think we all agree that this situation has been escalating long enough. I would like to put an end to it if we all agree.”

She didn’t get an answer. Elsa’s eyes kept switching between Erik, Roman and Julian, finding treason in the latter one’s presence. Erik could imagine the gears turning around in her head until she would come up with an idea to save herself. Her father was more composed. He measured the situation with calculation, readying himself for any possibility. His efforts turned out to be futile in a minute.

“Mr. Weigl brought this notebook to my attention,” Mrs. Möller lifted Elsa’s sketchbook. “Do you recognize it?”

Elsa didn’t answer. Her father stepped in, “I bought it for Elsa a year ago.”

“Well, Mr. Weigl found something that brings a completely new perspective into this case,” she announced and opened the sketchbook. Erik almost threw up when he saw a portrait of himself on the page. Except he wasn’t wearing any clothes in it.

“How dare you!” Mr. Reiter stepped forward and the headmistress closed the book immediately. “If anything this only shows how degenerate people you employ, Theresa. Just to think that he made my darling draw this.”

“He didn’t make her draw such a thing!” Roman shouted back and he didn’t charge at Mr. Reiter only because Julian held him back. “I caught your daughter drawing this on my class.”

“So what? Does it prove that she wasn’t forced?”

“She enjoyed it I would say,” Roman spat and there was something eerie in his voice.

“Mr. Weigl, I think it would be for the best if you escorted Mr. Bürki out of here. I’m sure we can have a level-headed conversation.”

Julian complied without a word and pulled a protesting Roman out of the office. Erik wouldn’t have expected it, but he actually missed their presence. He didn’t like how they were fighting for him without his consent, but their support still meant a lot.

“I can assure you that there are no doubts about the drawing’s authenticity, Mr. Reiter. The question is why Elsa decided to accuse Mr. Durm of something that he didn’t commit. Well, Elsa, could you tell us?”

Mrs. Möller’s voice was almost comforting, although Erik couldn’t believe it coming from her. It didn’t convince Elsa either. She shot her eyes down and stared at her feet.

“This is preposterous! Did or didn’t he see my daughter in bras?” Mr. Reiter demanded.

“I did,” Erik croaked out. He might be walking into a trap, but he didn’t want to win this battle with lies. He wouldn’t have been any different than Elsa if he did so. “That being said, I can’t think of any reason why a pupil should be walking in the corridors with limited clothing. Can you, Mr. Reiter?”

He opened his mouth but no sound came out of it. At the same time, Julian returned to the office and pulled the door closed behind himself carefully.

“Elsa, we can understand if you have problems with dealing with your feelings. In teenage years, our hearts can play cruel games with us, but that is no good reason for hurting others. Tell us the truth. Did you try to frame Mr. Durm only because you didn’t see another way to stop yourself from falling in love with him?”

“That's all lies!” Elsa yelled. It surprised all of them and Erik would have made a step back if he hadn’t already been leaning against the wall. “I didn’t draw anything like that! It must be Bürki’s trick! Or his!” she pointed her finger at Julian.

“I didn’t do it Elsa and you know it. I can recognize your style of drawing and this definitely fits in it,” Julian said.

“Why would Mr. Bürki or Mr. Weigl produce a false drawing, Elsa? You don’t have to worry, we are trying to help you. The sooner you admit the truth, the sooner that can happen.”

Elsa looked around in the room, looking for allies. Even her father had stopped supporting her. Seeing how alone she was, she reached for the last weapon of despair in her hand and it was exactly what Erik hoped to avoid.

“Because Bürki and Durm are together!” she screeched.

Erik felt blood filling his head and he had to hold onto the small table next to him. So this was where Roman’s efforts got him. A place of utmost humiliation. The worst was that he had to face it alone because Roman wasn’t mature enough to control his feelings earlier.

“If they are together,” Mrs. Möller spoke up, emphasizing the conditionality of the statement, “why would Mr. Durm try to force himself on you?”

“Who knows what these perverts are capable of–”

“I think that’s enough, Mr. Reiter,” Julian raised his voice after the businessman’s latest comment. He spoke with so much power that he silenced him.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Elsa stammered. “I wanted to say that Bürki has a crush on Durm. He did hit on me!” this time, she sounded beaten.

No one believed her and Erik couldn’t believe it. Relief flooded him, but it was such a difference to the world he saw only minutes ago that he refused to understand it. It couldn’t be true. They couldn’t have won the battle this easily, could they?

“I’m not convinced anything happened at all, Elsa,” Mrs. Möller closed the debate. “Mr. Reiter, I think your daughter needs professional help. I will not pay any further attention to this fabricated lie. I would also advise you to take Elsa into a different school, I want to avoid expelling her if it can be done. But if you don’t make steps this week, it will happen.”

“You will hear about us again!” Mr. Reiter uttered a final threat, then caught Elsa by her arm and pulled her outside.

“Well, Mr. Durm, I think that’s it,” Mrs. Möller smiled at him once the door closed behind Elsa.

“Yes, thank you for standing up for me,” Erik said, still somewhat dazed.

“You don’t have to thank me. I only did my job. You should thank your two good friends,” she looked at Julian. “Their loyalty is a great testament to the special connection within our community. I would of course understand if you wanted to take a few days off to process and close this incident, but after that, we await you back in our faculty.”

“That’s nice of you, but I think I would like to stick to our agreement,” Erik said after a moment of hard thinking.

“Are you sure?” Mrs. Möller asked, taken aback.

“What agreement?” Julian burst out.


	14. Healing

Erik didn't have a lot of things at school and packing them was quick business. The few pieces of equipment that were his own fit in a small box and he put his spare T-shirts into his bag, except for one. It was the shirt he had lent Roman. Only a few days had passed since then, but it felt like an eternity. So many things had changed and there was no coming back from them. Erik didn't even want to. He didn’t want to look backwards. All he cared about was the future in front of him; a new life somewhere completely elsewhere.

He tucked the last T-shirt into his bag, closed the locker, leaving the padlock and the keys on a small desk nearby for his successor and left the equipment room with a heavy heart. The gymnasium was empty and his footsteps echoed, their sound resembling a nail being hit into a piece of wood. So many memories bound him to this place, but he was sure that with time they would fade and new experiences would take their place. If only it would happen already.

The corridors were also empty. He had come back late in the afternoon to say goodbye to the school. He didn’t want to face the students and he hadn’t developed any kind of deep friendship with his colleagues for him to make a last speech to them. Except for Roman and Julian. But what was he supposed to tell them? That no matter how hard they tried to help him – they saved him for fuck’s sake – he wouldn’t take the chance they offered him? His mind had been made up long before. Leaving was the best option. The only one.

“I couldn’t believe it was true, until now,” a raspy voice stopped him in front of the canteen.

Erik froze in his place, fearing danger for a moment but his body relaxed when Julian stepped out of the shadows of a corner. His heart still beat like a racehorse’s. He wanted to avoid any conversations today. They would only lead to awkward situations just like this one.

“After all we’ve done, you still leave?”

“It is not your fault, Julian,” Erik sighed. “I just couldn’t face anyone who knows me after what happened.”

“Is that all?” an eyebrow ran up Julian’s forehead. “Because I think there’s much more to it. Something completely different. You wouldn’t have had any problem staying here if it was only you saving your own ass. Something about others helping you troubles you, doesn’t it?”

Erik shot his eyes down. He didn’t want Julian to see them, because he would surely see right to the deepest pits of his soul and there was nothing there he wanted to reveal. Julian had hit a sore spot, and he might not even realize how right he was.

“Thank you for all that you’ve done, Julian. And please, tell Roman the same. But it’s time for me to move on,” Erik croaked out finally. His words felt foul to him, too. They were so empty and meaningless.

“Yeah, sure. Packing your things and running away sure shows us how much all we’ve done matters to you,” Julian snorted. “And I won’t be your messenger. If you’ve got something to tell Roman, you’ll have to say it. He deserves that much. And if you worry that you’ll hurt him with talking to him only to tell him that you’re leaving, don’t worry. You’re breaking his heart anyways. There’s not much more you can ruin.”

“Why do you say that?” Erik burst out, surprised at the fire in his reaction.

“Because I want you to see how ridiculous you are! I want you to come to your senses and realize how much Roman loves you. I’m no expert in love, but the first day I came here, it was obvious that he loved you. And it was obvious that you loved him, too. Only, there was something stopping you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then make me!” Julian demanded.

For a moment, Erik thought about getting his things and running away before Julian could stop him, but he decided against it. After all, he owed him an explanation. He doubted that Julian could do anything to change his mind, but at least he could try to explain himself, to put a different light on what he was about to do. Julian might still not accept it, but at least he would understand.

“I was in love once in my life,” he spoke up, traveling to the past in his thoughts, reliving the joy of it. “His name was Max and we met when we were teenagers. There wasn’t anyone who understood me as well as him. That’s until I met Roman. I clicked with him right away, exactly how it had been with Max.

“Max kissed me first,” he smiled at the memory. “I didn't even expect it and didn’t know how to react. But before I knew it, we were making out on the couch in our flat and it felt wonderful. After that afternoon, we were inseparable. We did everything together to the extent that I couldn’t imagine my life without him.”

He took a deep breath, readying himself for the darker half of the story.

“We were twenty when he told me about his illness.”

“Erik, I’m so-“

“Sorry?” Erik snorted. “That doesn’t come close to what it meant to me. I saw the love of my life die slowly, his energy fading day after day. He got thinner and thinner, that blasted cancer eating him from the inside. You know what’s so horrible about it? That even in the darkest moments, he was the one lighting up our life. He never gave up, his smile never wavered. He was the one helping me while I only stood by his side and watched him die, unable to do anything about it. I should have done much more, so much more!” he shook his head. He willed himself to shed a tear, but it wouldn’t come. His jaws clenched and his cheek grimaced in an unyielding strain, but he didn't cry.

“He gave me his everything, and I was unable to offer him any comfort. When he died, I didn’t even cry. I haven’t cried for him ever since. Can you imagine it? A man I loved more than anything else, and I’m not good enough to cry for losing him. Do you see now why I don’t want to let Roman closer? I’m a monster, Julian! I just take away from others without giving them anything in return. I don’t deserve Roman’s love and he shouldn’t waste it on me.”

A heavy silence fell between them. Erik shook with silent sobs, but it wasn’t close to how he felt. He cursed at himself, he had gone down this road countless times, remembering the past every single day, hoping that one time he would cry, and all that to no avail.

“Come with me,” Julian said and opened the wide glass doors leading to the canteen. Erik had no idea what he was planning, but he followed him with a blind trust. “I can’t say anything that would come close to how I feel after you shared your story with me, but maybe... there’s something I can do.”

He sat down at the open piano, set the chair right and placed his hands on the yellowed keys. Erik leaned against the wall a few meters from Julian and closed his eyes. He was in agony and nothing could help him out of it. Surely, he would have found the cure in the last five years if there was one.

Julian took a deep breath and started to play.

Erik wouldn’t have thought that three notes could be so sad and yet, after Julian played them, Erik felt like his agony had been put into the perfect form.

Julian kept playing mellow chords with his left hand, his right hand playing a simple and yet so bittersweet melody. There was the slightest difference between the notes alternating and they kept returning to that one note that held all of Erik’s sadness in it. He listened to that powerful piece and remembered all that he lost in Max.

The main melody kept descending, and it felt like going home, but before it could reach it, Julian brought it back to where it started. The same few notes sounded again, but this time they bore more power and as they descended again, they turned into a desperate cry for harmony and balance as the chords Julian kept playing just wouldn’t match what the main notes begged for.

Then, the music erupted into an exciting run. Julian played louder and faster now, putting in so much emotion that Erik didn’t think it possible. But he felt his own anger at Max’s death taking form in the music and he listened as once again, the main melody begged for harmony in the chords.

As that balance got closer and closer, because Erik could feel it coming, Julian played softer and softer, until the music was nothing more than a whisper. Then, when Erik was almost sure that the right chord would sound now, there was silence.

Julian moved his hands over the keys and played a few more chords. The first two were so close to a harmonic end that Erik could almost grasp it, but it was only when Julian finally ended the piece with that perfect sound that Erik sighed.

He was home, in a place of tranquility.

The last notes died away and Erik noticed something dropping on his hand. Something wet. He furrowed his brows and brought his fingers to his cheeks, feeling two streams of tears unbelievingly.

After five years, he cried.

 

* * *

 

The tires of his car screeched as he came to a stop in front of the house where Roman lived. He wouldn’t have missed anything if he had arrived five minutes later, but he had already wasted too much time. After all, he still felt and he could love. All that it took for him to realize it was an overtly active friend and a piece of music that took him on a journey.

The car door had barely closed behind him when he was running on the sidewalk, locking the car mid-run. There was another reason for his hurry; he feared that if he gave himself time, he would change his mind. He needed to act as quickly as he could. He wasn’t sure if Roman would hear him out, a deep and always questioning part of his mind told him that he didn’t deserve to be heard anyways, but his heart could finally silence that voice. Yes, he was a human being capable of feeling and he deserved to be heard, loved and be happy.

The realization was so basic, and it was so natural to almost everyone, yet for Erik, it was the deliberation he had been waiting for long years.

As he reached the front door to the house, he ran his fingers through his hair. For a single moment, he doubted that this was a good idea. What was he going to tell Roman? How could he explain? Then, the next moment, he just shrugged. He would find a way just like he did when talking to Julian. And while he had hurt Roman, he hoped that Roman’s love for him was strong enough to overcome that difference between them. They could be each other’s and Erik didn’t doubt it anymore.

“Yes?” a drowsy voice answered his ringing the doorbell.

“Um, Roman, it’s me– Erik. Could I maybe–” he didn’t have to finish the sentence. He heard a buzz and as he pressed the door, it opened with a single click.

He didn’t have time to wait for the elevator. He ran up the stairs, his heart beating faster with each set of stairs and not only because of the physical activity. His whole body was buzzing, there was a strange vibration in his every cell. He was looking forward to this conversation with so much expectation. He didn’t care how it would go, because ultimately, as long as he reached his goal, what difference would it make? This way or that way, the important thing still was that they were together.

The door to Roman’s door was half-open and Erik took it as an invitation. He stormed inside, slammed the door behind him and almost bumped into Roman on his way to the living room where he hoped to meet his friend. His love.

“What? You’ve come to say goodbye? Julian told me everything about your perfect little plan... When were you going to tell me what a coward you were? When were you going to tell me that you are too weak to fight? When were you–”

Erik couldn’t listen to his accusations anymore. He flung himself against Roman, pulling him in for a tight embrace. Roman was out of words at once and as Erik felt his breath on his shoulders, he could sense the reactions going on in his body. But his first move after Erik hugged him was more telling than anything else. He had to pull his hip back before he returned Erik’s embrace.

“I'm so sorry for everything I’ve done and said,” Erik murmured. “And all the things I haven’t said. Or done. Like this,” he said and before Roman could do anything about it, he pressed their lips together.

On his way here, he went over this moment countless times. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea but it was the best idea he had. This wasn’t a time when words would suffice. He had too many emotions to convey and he did it with great vehemence. When he pulled back from Roman’s sweet lips, those lips were swollen and at the same time begged for more.

“I love you, Roman,” Erik whispered and the words were more liberating than the tears he had shed only an hour ago. “I’ve been in love with you ever since we met but I couldn’t tell you that until now. I know I hurt you and I owe you a ton of apologies. But I have a story to tell first, and I hope you will hear me out. Something I haven’t told you about my relationship with Max.”

“S-sure,” Roman stuttered, still under the influence of their hasty kiss.

They walked to the living room and set down in front of each other. And Erik spoke. He lost all perception of time as he went into details about his big love. He didn’t leave out any details, he wanted to be open to Roman. It was a balm to his own wounds. As the story progressed, he found himself feeling better and better. The scars were still there, but they didn't ache half as much as they did a day or an hour ago.

And Roman listened. He was moved by Erik’s story and when he talked about Max’s illness, their eyes welled up at the same time.

“That’s all I had to tell you before I ask you my next question,” Erik finished. “Can you love me after all the things I’ve told you? Can you love a man who couldn’t love for so long?”

“I can love you more than before,” Roman smiled and he walked over to Erik. He put his hands on the younger one’s body as if he wanted to make sure that he was still there, and that this whole thing was real. “But you are wrong at one thing. You were capable of love in the last years, too. You had too much love for your own good. And one thing is sure, Erik Durm: I can never get too much of your love,” he smiled and pressed their lips together, lost in the sensation and his visions of their future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who read this story or just gave it a try. Thanks for your kudos and comments, I hope you didn't regret sticking with Erik and Roman. :-)  
> P.S.: The particular piece I had in mind that Julian played was Chopin's Prelude in E-minor. It's a special piece for me as well, and encourage you to listen to it.


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